The Dawning of the Day
by Lara B. Caine
Summary: She said to me "go away and let me go - you rake! there from the south the light is coming with the dawning of the day"-Irish folklore is never kind to its heroines; will Scarlett meet the same unhappy end?
1. The Well Below the Valley

**Chapter 1: The Well Below the Valley**

_**But the Lord above may save my soulFrom burning in hell at the well below the valley**_

"_Scarlett! Stay with me, Scarlett. Please, don't give in, darling." Melly's voice was far away, miles away even. Scarlett's eyes fluttered open, thinking that perhaps Melly would appear. Nothing. Only empty space lay before her... _

"_Scarlett!" Melly's shrill scream pierced Scarlett's ears. "You cannot leave him. Not now!"_

_Scarlett opened her mouth to cry out for Melly, but it was dry. She could not speak or breathe or think. Darkness overcame her, and she allowed herself to fall into it. She was flying, spinning, falling backwards into the blackness. Finally, she reached the end of it, and heard Melly's voice no longer. _

"Katie Scarlett!" the florid face of Gerald O'Hara was alit with a smile for his eight-year-old daughter, an imp of a thing who had inherited his Irish face and strong jaw. Although her mother and her mammy had secretly bemoaned the disposition of his lively daughter, the fact that she was so strong willed only increased her prettiness in his eyes. "Give us a kiss!"

Dutifully, the little girl kissed her father as he pulled her close to him, swinging her to and fro until she felt sick and demanded to be let down. The younger daughter, Suellen, also demanded a kiss. Although Gerald kissed her, he had little use for the lass and for the baby, Careen. In their placid demeanors lurked none of Scarlett's insufferable arrogance nor pride, yet it was because of these qualities that her father adored his firstborn. In truth, as Mrs. O'Hara had stated to him once, Gerald liked the child so well because she was him all over in the form of a pretty girl child. Despite his protests, Gerald knew that Mrs. O'Hara was correct in her assumption.

"Your mother said you've been ill, Puss." Gerald addressed Scarlett, already in her nightdress.

"I'm better now, Pa." Scarlett's green eyes were wide in worshipful adoration. "I've been waiting for you all day! It's almost dark, Pa! You promised me a story when you got home!"

"So I did," Gerald laughed, "but I'm tired, my wee lass. My journey was long and I've not slept well in three days."

"Then the story will be all the better!" Scarlett declared, her little hands on her hips.

"Mr. O'Hara," Ellen, his wife, descended down the staircase with more grace in her little pinkie then Gerald possessed in his entire body. "I've had a bath prepared for you. Suellen, you have not finished your penmanship lesson. Upstairs, please. Scarlett, back to bed with you."

"I feel better now, Mother!" Scarlett protested, flinging her small arms protectively round Gerald's waist. "Please Mother, Pa promised a story."

"Your father's only just arrived, love. And you've been quite ill." Ellen placed a small white hand upon her daughter's cheek.

"Do as your mother says, Puss." Gerald said with a hint of firmness to satisfy his wife. He winked at Scarlett as she sighed quite dramatically. "I'll come to you shortly. With a new story."

Happily, Scarlett began to skip up the steps two at a time, which earned her a reprove from her mother, who guarded her children zealously from all danger.

"Has she been that ill, then?" Gerald whispered furtively to his wife.

"Not so much to cause us undue alarm." Ellen soothed her husband. "You set such a store by Scarlett, Mr. O'Hara, believe me, I would never allow any harm to come to her."

Gerald's pride was slightly injured by her formal intimacy. Ellen could be chaste as a nun when she wished, yet she spoke of Scarlett as if she were not even a child which she herself had borne.

"I'll go to her now." Gerald said firmly, dismissing his wife.

Ellen nodded demurely, allowing the two conspirators their fun and returning to Suellen and her writing lesson.

Scarlett was sitting up in her little white bed, the covers pulled up under her chin to shield her from the chill, for the night was a cold one.

"Pa!" she exclaimed delightedly. "My story, please."

"Of course, me girl." Gerald looked upon the child with fondness. How pretty she was with those green eyes and that white skin. It would not be so long before he was brandishing his shotgun to keep the young men away from her. "Very well, close those pretty eyes of yours. Now, once upon a time, there was a fair maiden, standing by a well."

"A well, Pa?"

"Aye. A well."

"Is she pretty?"

"The fairest in the land."

"As pretty as me?"

"You're prettier still. This lass was not beautiful in the typical way. No lovely golden tresses. She was skinny as a whippet and had hair the color of a raven's wing and a pair of bright green eyes the likes of which had never been seen before in all the land."

Scarlett clapped her small hands delightedly. "She looks like me then, Pa!"

"Aye. Now stop interrupting me, Katie Scarlett, or I won't be telling this story."

"Yes Pa." Scarlett's green eyes met her father's blue ones.

"Right. Now, the lass was standing at the well which lay on her dear Pa's property. But this particular well was good for more than drawing water, for in it, one could see the future. The lass looked in it, frightened by what she might behold. But she owned courage, so she looked. She saw within it a terrible thing, her own land bloodstained and the trees bathed with fire. This hallucination ended quick enough though, when a man interrupted the lass's thoughts."

"A man?" Scarlett interrupted. "Was he a handsome prince?"

"A traveler he was, swarthy as a Spanish sailor. Although he had in his possession more riches than anyone in the land, the lass knew it not, as he wore the hooded cloak of a traveler. The lass, being clever, would not allow him to take a drink from the magical well, for it was her responsibility to guard it."

"That wasn't very nice." Scarlett muttered aloud. "The man was probably thirsty."

"Indeed he was," Gerald continued. "He begged a cup of water. The lass refused, for none ever drank from the magic well, only using it to see their future."

"If those are the rules…" Scarlett's small voice trailed off. "But I still think she should have helped him."

"Well, perhaps she should have. Instead, she cursed him, told him to go away from her sight. You know what he did then, Puss? He told her that he loved her."

"How exciting! And did she love him back?"

"Not at all. She rejected him again."

"He should have taken the hint." Scarlett said this shrewdly for her age.

"Well, his mind had turned bitter toward her by then. So, he took off his hood, revealing himself to the lass."

"And was he dashing, Pa? Like a prince?"

"More a pirate than prince, sweet. He told the lass that even if her own true love was asking, she would not spare him a cuppa."

"Oh, the poor thing!" Scarlett bemoaned the fate of the poor Irish girl who resembled her so. "How mean he was to her!"

"So then, the pirate cursed the lass for her disinterest, though she swore that her true love was another man. He put a terrible spell upon her, condemning her to wander the earth in torment and despair for seven years. Only then, said he, would she recover her magic well."

"But the well belongs to her! He can't take it away, can he, Pa?"

"That was the terrible part of it, Puss. She was banished from the land, exiled to a foreign country. Among friends she found only foes, and among enemies she found favor. In vain she searched for the way back home, back to the well in the valley."

"Did she? Did she find it?"

"Seven years passed, and the lass was older and cleverer. The rogue found her again, and demanded her love once more. This time, she was prepared for it, Puss. You know what she did? She married him, tricking him into believing she loved him."

"She married the terrible man?"

"Aye. And they had a child, a bonny lass like her mother. And for a time, the lass was content with her lot, for the rogue was kind to her and gave her all she desired. His only condition was that she never stray from his side to find the well, for the future, the rogue said, belonged to the fates alone. The lass was happy, yes, but she craved the well. Thoughts of it began to haunt her dreams, and she longed to return to the land she had lost."

"But wasn't she happy?"

"Not anymore. She left her husband and child and returned to her homeland. It was, as she had seen in the well, ruined by famine and war. She saw only the gaunt trees and the haunted ruin of the life she had known. Desperate to escape, she fled to the well, still intact, and looked into its depths. There was only the sky reflecting in the water. The well had lost its magic. She looked around like a desperate wretch, calling for someone to help her, but there was no one to hear her."

"What about her husband? Surely if he loved her he didn't blame her for wanting to go home." Scarlett looked indignant and pouted prettily.

"He was gone, along with the child."

"What a terrible husband! Pa, what a terrible story! But how does it end?"

"She never finds him…or at least, that's how the story ends."

"But! But Pa! He _loved _her." Scarlett was still at the age where she possessed an unshakeable trust in true love.

"Well make up your own ending then, Katie Scarlett." Gerald leaned down to kiss his daughter. "To sleep with you now. Dream about the lass getting her rogue of a husband back."

"Will he come back, Pa?" Scarlett's eyes owned a new fear.

Gerald nodded. "Its up to you, Puss. Goodnight."

"_Scarlett! You must come back! It's too soon, dearest! I can't bear to live without you."_

_Scarlett was vaguely cognizant of Melly's presence next to her. There was a searing pain in her side, something she had never experienced before. Rhett. She wanted Rhett, and he was gone. Bonnie was gone with him. Where had he taken her?_

"_Please God." Scarlett listened to Melly pray, her little hands folded and head bowed. "Almighty God, I beseech you to heal Scarlett. We need her so much, Lord. Captain Butler and Bonnie and Wade and Ella. Ashley and Beau need her too, Lord. If I should die delivering the child you have blessed me with, they could not endure life without her loving care. Watch over her, Lord, and if it is your will, take me instead. I am so weak, Lord, and she so strong. If you must take one of us into your loving hands, I beg you, take me!" Melanie broke down, sobbing freely. "Take me! Take me!"_

_No Melly, Scarlett thought, stop this foolishness! I've wronged you for so many years. Please Melly, I cannot bear it!_

_Another wave of pain overcame Scarlett, and for a moment, she was a little girl again, still safe and warm within her father's arms…_


	2. The Parting Glass

**Chapter 2: The Parting Glass**

_**There is a fair maid in this town,That sorely has my heart rosy cheeks and ruby lips,I own she has my heart in thrall**_

"_Captain Butler?" Melanie Wilkes's soft voice echoed throughout the large empty room. The target of her inquiry was on his knees at Scarlett's portrait, sobbing ever so slightly. Three or four empty bottles lay at his feet. "Captain Butler? Rhett?" Hesitantly, Melanie approached him, placing her small white hands upon his heaving shoulders. _

_Rhett's tearstained face was haunting, Melanie thought. He must love Scarlett so very much. It offended Melanie's own gentle nature to behold such suffering, she simply had to alleviate the poor man's pain._

"_I understand that the Irish have a parting glass when someone they love is about to die." Rhett said this politely, but with a hollow sounding voice. "So you've come to tell me. That's appropriate. Well? Scarlett's dead?" _

"_No! Oh no, Captain Butler, she's much better!" Melanie lied through her teeth, certain that the untruth was far more kind to the poor man. "Captain Butler, Scarlett loves you so, so very much." She bent down on her knees and began to stroke his hair, silently renewing her fervent prayer. Please God, take me instead of her._

Scarlett's head was spinning. Melanie was gone. The absence of the woman's calming presence rendered her as helpless as a newborn babe torn from the breast. She had clung to Melly's skirts, hidden under them for so long, and all the while she had longed for Ashley and wished Melly dead. What an ungrateful fool I've been! And now she's left me here to die!

Within Scarlett's mind, an image appeared. It was Rhett, coldly indifferent, then storming out of their house and away from her. Rhett's face melted into darkness, and then she heard hooves. Black horses marching their death march. The funeral party. The hearse conveying Melly's corpse, Melly's body, Melly. Melly was being put in the ground and Rhett was gone. Standing alone in the cold graveyard, Scarlett wept bitterly, begging for Melanie to soothe her, but she was gone.

Ashley. Her mind tried to envision Ashley's face, his lovely golden hair. She couldn't even remember what he looked like. Ashley was as dead to her as Melly, for all that Melly was in the ground and he was in the flesh. He was a ghost of a man, a ghost of a dream...

Scarlett's eyes fluttered open. Had she fallen asleep? She was somewhere different! Indeed, there were two other girls next to her. It's Cathleen! She thought with a thrill. The Tarleton girls and the Munro girls and even India and Honey Wilkes were welcome specters in her mind, and yet, they seemed to be flesh and blood. She was sixteen again, and she was at the barbeque at Twelve Oaks. Oh sweet sixteen, Scarlett thought, leaping out of the bed. Perhaps I'm in Heaven, perhaps that's what Heaven is, a return to the time in which we were happiest. But was I happy? I was lovestruck over Ashley. I shall go to him, tell him what a stupid fool I am and give him all my blessings for happiness with Melly. Another jolt of exhilaration filled her as she beheld Melanie, innocently sleeping next to India Wilkes. Melanie was so pretty then, Scarlett thought wistfully, so delicate, and I wished her such ill. I'll make up for it, Melly.

Scarlett extricated her carefully folded dress and put it on, praying that she would not disturb Mammy, who she knew would be listening closely. She prayed to herself as she fumbled with the laces: God, thank you for this chance at redemption.

Rhett! He would be here too, she remembered. She would march up to him and tell him exactly why he looked upon her with such familiarity. After all, he _does _know what I look like underneath my shimmy! Oh the joy of it all! Scarlett tiptoed down the stairs, careful to make no noise. A pang of guilt stabbed her. The children. Wade and Ella. She couldn't possibly marry Rhett at sixteen when Wade and Ella had not been conceived. Gritting her teeth, she resolved to flirt heavily with Rhett, leaving him panting for her, but ultimately she had to marry Charlie and have Wade. He'll be dead in two months anyway, she thought rather morbidly.

"Miss O'Hara!" Charles's calf-like face was before her, as if on command.

"Where did you come from?" Scarlett snapped more rudely than she had meant to. "Oh, I'm sorry, Charlie. I must just be tired from my nap, that's all."

Charles Hamilton was nothing but emboldened by her familiarity, only his sister and Aunt ever addressed him as Charlie.

"Miss O'Hara, I love you."

"Yes, Charlie, I will marry you." Scarlett had to stifle her laughter. She was ridiculous, proposing to him. It was so delightfully appalling, she was surprised that he stood for it.

"Miss O'Hara!" Charlie's round face was alit with abject happiness. She had read his mind and he had to say nothing. "When may I speak to your father?"

"Go now!" Scarlett urged him with a pat on the hand. "Do hurry, I am most anxious. Oh and Charlie? Let's have a double wedding with Melanie and Ashley!"

Scarlett congratulated herself on her cleverness and watched with mirth as Charlie pulled her father aside and asked to speak with him. Ashley had already excused himself from the group of gentlemen in the parlor, presumably to look for Rhett, whose dismal lack of patriotism was still the topic of conversation amongst the other boys.

"Ashley!" Scarlett whispered loudly. He looked not at all surprised to see her, she thought as she observed him. He had known what she was going to say before she even said it. She beckoned him into the library and shut the door behind her, knowing of course that Rhett was lurking on the sofa. Deliriously happy, Scarlett flashed Ashley her best smile and took his hands.

"What is it, Scarlett? A secret?" Ashley looked weary. She had been so stupid the first time round, not to notice his expression of dismay.

"Yes Ashley, I'm going to marry Charles Hamilton!" Scarlett said it with such an outburst of genuine laughter accompanying her news that Ashley looked quite shocked. How funny, Scarlett thought, he now thinks I'm madly in love with Charlie and he thought that it was himself I was after! So amused was she at Ashley's vanity, she again graced him her most charming smile. "I do hope you won't mind, Ashley, I would so love a double wedding with you and Melly. It would just make me happier than anything!"

Ashley sighed, thinking that something had clearly addled Scarlett's brain. She sounded nothing at all like herself and he had it on good authority that she had been pining away for _him_!

"Scarlett, are you quite certain you want to marry Charles? I mean, my dear, he is certainly taken with you, but…"

"But what, Ashley? Am I not well-bred enough to be your sister-in-law?" Oh how he blanched at that. She saw him at that moment for what he was, a white-livered, cowardly man who thought her good enough to imagine scantily clad, but never good enough to marry. She hoped that Rhett was listening closely.

"Oh but that's right, Ashley, I'm marrying Charles and not you. It's a good thing too, for I'd not be proud to be a Wilkes. I'm far prouder to call myself a Hamilton and Melly's sister. I daresay _she _would be proud to call me her sister!"

"You needn't defend Melanie's virtues to me!" Ashley sputtered, looking hopelessly awkward. "And I would never mean to say that you are…unworthy…it's simply-"

"You thought that it was you?" Scarlett smirked. "Of course you did, Ashley. You know, you don't really deserve Melly at all. Try to be good to her won't you?"

Ashley hardened his mouth and bowed slightly to Scarlett, kissing her hand in a very similar fashion as he had done before, or had there been a before? Scarlett was so very pleased with herself, perhaps this beautiful dream wasn't a dream at all. As soon as Ashley shut the door, Scarlett meandered prettily to the sofa and peered over it. One of Rhett's eyes were shut, feigning sleep, but the other was wide open, and met hers with grand amusement.

"I must confess to you that I was expecting a love scene, and I daresay Mr. Wilkes left disappointed."

"Did he?" Scarlett felt a little breathless at the sight of Rhett so young and handsome.

"Indeed." Rhett stretched luxuriously and stood up, appraising Scarlett with approval. "So, you're marrying Mr. Hamilton, eh? Not the only proposal you've collected today, I presume?"

Scarlett scoffed at that. "I meant what I said to Ashley. I'm proud to be marrying Melanie's brother."

Rhett looked amused. "That's most interesting, Miss O'Hara. I was watching you most of the day and I would have bet my fortune on the fact that you quite loathed little Miss Hamilton. In fact, I too was quite expecting you to throw yourself at young Mr. Wilkes…I think I'm only a little less disappointed than he."

"Oh Ashley means nothing by it. It's true! I'm nothing at all to him but a fantasy out of one his books." Scarlett said easily to Rhett, taking a seat on the sofa he had been lying on only moments before. "Won't you set down, Rhett?"

"If you're quite sure that your new fiancé won't burst in and threaten to shoot me again. I'd hate to make you a widow before you've the chance to be a wife."

"Oh, Charlie's off speaking to Pa," Scarlett muttered, taking Rhett's hand. "Listen, Rhett. I don't know if this is a dream or if it's real, but I must tell you. I love you, not Ashley. Even if you think I don't love you, I do. I'm so sorry I insisted upon separate bedrooms after Bonnie came. I do love the children, all three of them, and you! Rhett, please give me another chance! Don't leave me again!"

Rhett paused and ran a large hand through his hair. "Miss O'Hara? Are you quite all right?"

"Of course, Rhett. Kiss me!"

"What?"

"Kiss me like you did the night before you took Bonnie to London!"

"I don't know a Bonnie, Miss O'Hara, I-" his voice trailed off as she seized his jacket and pulled him toward her. They kissed passionately, like lovers, and Rhett Butler's cool disposition melted like butter as he held the strange girl in his arms.

"_Melanie, I'm frightened! I can't lose her, I can't! And its my fault! All my fault!" _

"_Oh Captain, Butler, no. Please stop this." Melanie rubbed his back like a little boy, attempting to channel everything within her that was maternal. He was sick with grief and with drink, poor man. _

"_I used to remember everything about the day we met, so very clearly. You remember, Melanie? At Twelve Oaks? Of course you don't, she was chasing after-oh God-and I laughed at her! Again! I drove her to this!" _

"_Stop, Captain Butler! Stop this! Please, go on about Twelve Oaks. Tell me how you met Scarlett. Go on, sweetheart."_

_Rhett's red rimmed eyes met Melanie's, and he said shamefacedly. "I thought I remembered it so clearly. But now, its all a blur…" He stopped speaking and broke down, sobbing incoherently into Melanie's lap. She continued stroking his hair until he was almost asleep in her arms. _

"_Miz Melly!" Mammy's voice shook with fear as she pounded upon Rhett's bedroom door. "Mistah Rhett! It's Miz Scarlett! Com' quick Miz Melly, she bad off!"_

_Melanie squeezed Rhett's hand and quickly scurried down the hallway. Ashley was standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking bewildered. Melanie hurriedly told him to take Bonnie, Wade and Ella home to play with Beau. _

"_But-Scarlett?" Ashley's face had pleading written all over it. Her poor dear husband loved Scarlett almost as much as she, and Melly adored him for it. Let people talk, she thought, family is more important than anything else in the world. _

"_I'll do all I can, dear. Now see to the children, won't you?" Melanie followed Scarlett's screams. The poor dear was yelling and pleading for Charlie of all people! The poor thing, Melly thought, how can I help her? How can I ease her pain?_

"_Ashley!" Scarlett choked out, her eyes appearing to focus upon Melanie, "Ashley-nothing-a mistake-Charlie! It was nothing!"_

"_Oh Scarlett! Darling! I know, my dear! Please, it's your Melly! It's all right, dear! You did nothing wrong, love." Melanie paced as Scarlett continued to whimper, finally quieting and falling asleep. _

"_Has she asked for me?" Rhett's black head peered into the doorway, as though he was afraid to enter. _

"_Oh Captain Butler, she's just gotten comfortable," Melly attempted to shoo him gently. "I'll call for you as soon as she wakes. Lay down, Captain Butler, you'll make yourself ill."_

_At that moment, Scarlett sat up in bed, as if she were stirred by Rhett's presence. Rhett's eyes widened with joy. "She knows me!" He yelled in a moment of triumph._

"_Ashley!" Scarlett cried out with such a force that there was no mistaking the name._

_Rhett's hands began to shake and Melanie reached out to comfort him. "She's delirious, Captain Butler. She can't help it! She doesn't know you!"_

"_She knows," Rhett choked out, his voice ragged. "She never cared about me, its always been about-" he stopped as he beheld Melanie's impassive stare. _

"_Go to bed, Captain Butler. I'll call you as soon as anything changes." Melanie said this as solemnly as if she were in church, her way of letting him know that she would not tolerate disloyalty to Scarlett, not even from him. Dr. Meade must have given her something for pain, Melanie thought with relief, Scarlett finally was resting peacefully. In fact, Melanie could have sworn that Scarlett was smiling…_


	3. The Cottage Maid

**Chapter 3: The Cottage Maid**

_**Oh, had I the lamp of AladdinOr the wealth that gold mines can bestowI'd rather be poor in a cottageWith the pretty girl milking her cow.**_

"_Story, Uncle Ashley! You promised, you did!" Bonnie Blue Butler crossed her arms and pouted. Uncle Ashley was rather dull compared to her Daddy, but Mother was sick and Daddy didn't want to play with her. _

_Ashley sighed, thoughts of Scarlett weighing heavily upon his conscience. Melly had told him that Scarlett was with child again, and was distraught that Butler had left her in the condition. Everyone was talking about the scandal, for the fact that Scarlett had long since dismissed Butler from their bedroom was well known among Atlanta society. Ashley even felt a little shamed, for his part in it. _

"_What sort of story would you like to hear, Bonnie?" He addressed the child who reminded him so very much of Scarlett. _

"_I want a story about Daddy! Daddy's the very bravest!"_

"_I'll do my best," Ashley rolled his eyes slightly, not feeling particularly charitable to the girl's father at the moment. "Sit down, Wade and Ella. You too, Beau. Bonnie would have a story."_

_Triumphantly, Bonnie set upon her knees wedged next to Ella and Beau. Wade Hampton looked out the window as though he wished to jump out it and run to his mother to comfort her. _

"_All right, Bonnie," Ashley began. "Once there was a soldier, who left his beloved home and family and went off to war."_

"_Was he a 'Federate?" Bonnie interrupted. "We're Dem'crats, Daddy says."_

"_Yes, Bonnie. He was a Confederate soldier. He left a beautiful home and went off to fight for the cause he held so dear. However, when the war was over and he returned home, he found both his parents dead, his home burned to the ground, and a world in which there was no place for him. A green-coated man with a cloven hoof appeared to him and offered to make him rich if he would for seven years not cut his hair, clip his nails, bathe, or pray, and wear a coat and cloak that he would give him. At the end, if he survived, he would be rich and free; if he died during the time, the devil would have him. The desperate soldier agreed, and the devil gave him the green coat, telling him he would find its pockets always full of limitless money. _

_The soldier set out, and gave much money to the poor that they would pray for him, to live out the seven years. After several years, he grew so revolting that he had to pay heavily to get any shelter. In the fourth year, he heard an old man lamenting, and persuaded him to tell his tale: he had lost his beloved wife and all of his money, did not know how to provide for his daughters, and could not pay his taxes, so he would be sent to jail. The soldier paid the taxes and gave the old man a purse of gold as well._

_The old man said that he would marry him to one of his daughters in gratitude. The youngest ran away, screaming, from the sight; the middle one said he was worse than a bear that had tried to pass itself off as human; the oldest one agreed to fulfill her father's promise. The soldier gave her half a ring and promised to return in three years. Her sisters ridiculed her at length._

_At the end of the seven years, the soldier found the devil again and demanded he fulfill his promise. Clean and with his money, he dressed himself as a fine gentleman and went to the old man's house, where the younger sisters served him, and his bride, dressed in black, showed no reaction to him. He told the old man that he would marry one of his daughters. The two younger sisters ran off to dress splendidly, and the soldier dropped his half of the ring into a wine cup and gave it to his bride. She drank it and realized that he was her bridegroom. And they lived together happily ever after…"_

_Bonnie looked a bit displeased as Ashley finished. "I thought you said the story was about Daddy! Daddy would never not cut his hair and nails. Never! I want to ride my pony now!"_

"_Not now, Bonnie." Ella attempted to soothe her little sister. "Come, look see? I brought my dolls for us to play with. Come into the kitchen, let's have tea for them." Ashley closed his eyes and said a quick prayer for Scarlett. Melly hadn't been back to the house at all, and it was nearly dark. _

"_Uncle Ashley?" Wade said tentatively. "Was that the end of the story?"_

"_I take it you might have read a variation the tale in a book before, Wade? By a certain pair of brothers by name of Grimm?"_

_Wade nodded and Ashley smiled at him, albeit briefly. _

"_Well, after the couple married, upon realizing who he was and what they gave up, the middle sister hung herself in rage, and the other drowned herself, and the devil knocked on the door to tell the soldier that he had gotten two souls instead of only one."_

_Wade's eyes grew wide as coins. "I suppose there's never really a happily ever after, is there, Uncle Ashley?"_

_Ashley shook his head. "If only real life were that simple, Wade."_

Scarlett was running away from something terrifying, pursuing her relentlessly. The longer she ran, the closer it came, some unknown force which threatened to consume her very body and soul. She was surrounded by the relentless mist, seeking the comfort of anything, anyone who could save her from it.

"Is this your cross, child?"

Scarlett paused, the mist was lifting, and she was able to see a small house in the distance. A lady of bewitching beauty stood before her.

"Come here, Scarlett."

"Sit down."

Scarlett sat at the beautiful woman's feet, feeling the cool brush of her hand upon her cheek.

"You don't know me, Scarlett, but I know you quite well. Indeed, you're Ellen's eldest."

"Grandmother?" Scarlett said tentatively.

"Yes. Solange Robillard. The pleasure is all mine."

"Am I dreaming or dead?" Scarlett worried aloud, "are you the cause of my dream?"

"I'm no expert of dreams, dear. I merely desired a moment alone with you. You know, you can't undo the actions of your past. Melanie will always be a burden to you while she's alive, and an enigma in death."

"Melly can't die. I won't let her!"

"Won't you? If Melanie is going to die, it will happen in its due course. Just because you grew a conscience, my girl, does not erase the years of bitterness off of your heart. Believe me, dear Scarlett. I know far better than you."

"I love Melly!"

"Indeed. I believe you almost love her enough to forget Ashley."

"I do, Grandmother! I will never speak to Ashley again if it will save her!"

"It will not save her. I suspect she will ask you to care for him upon her death. He will be another child to you, not the lover you have sought these years past."

"No! You must not say it!" Scarlett's voice was shrill and unfamiliar. "Melly is my only real friend. She understands me, she…She can't die! She can't!"

"Don't you love Ashley? You've certainly given the impression of loving him after all these years."

"I do love him. I think I love him. But Melly means…"

"Melly has become like a mother to you, yet you will not show her your true face. She believes you good like her, a blameless creature."

"She's wrong! May I be damned forever for deceiving her! I promise, Grandmother, I will be faithful to Rhett, body and soul!"

"Child, you have been faithful to your husband in body…but soul…my dear, you would have willingly sold it for a kind word from Ashley Wilkes. It would have all been well and good if he had returned your sentiment. In truth, I love a good love story as much as anyone. My dear, all you have managed to do is to ruin him!"

"He ruined himself!" Scarlett defended herself. "All his talk of dreams and honor. It's all a load of rot, and I'm being punished for it!"

Solange's face betrayed a hint of sympathy. "And you'll lose everything for it…just as I did."

"You, Grandmother?"

"Oui. Your grandfather Pierre was my third husband. As proud as Lucifer he observed me from his ivory tower, for I was the loveliest little thing Savannah could produce for his pleasure. When I wouldn't become his mistress I became his wife. Madame Robillard at last! And yet, for all his money and considerable charm, I liked him not. He was never what I desired…could never be what I desired. As I grew older, I became more and more enamored with Pierre and less so with my other paramours. For his part, Pierre tired of me, even for all my beauty. He doted on the children I gave him, tres petites filles: Ellen, Eulalie, and Pauline. Little angels from heaven, especially Ellen. Little Ellen with her black curls. Ma belle. Oh, Scarlett, you're so like Ellen. Ellen loved with all her heart, as you do. But ma belle, you and Ellen placed all your hopes upon one man, the wrong man, and it is killing you as it killed her. Even after Ellen married Mr. O'Hara, she pined for Phillipe, the lover she lost. Ma belle Scarlett, do not follow the same path. You come from a long line of women who made the wrong choice. Make the right one, mon amour. I bid you adieu.

Scarlett did not want to leave the safety of the cottage, the woods, the warm arms around her. Solange was her in another, safer form. She craved her and sobbed loudly.

"Grandmother! Save me!"

Solange only beheld her sadly. "You must save yourself, Scarlett."


	4. Lots of Drops of Brandy

**Chapter 4: Lots of Drops of Brandy**

_**There was handshaking, there was leave takingIn the corner old mothers matchmakingWith other innocent sinsand we drank a good health to each other**_

Scarlett awoke with the knowledge that her condition was improved. She stood briefly in front of her mirror to examine her bent, unshapely figure. The mirror showed a foreign person, not herself, Scarlett thought with glee. Who are you, hag in the mirror? A wraith sent to judge me? Fiddle-dee-dee.

Melly would have been appalled, Scarlett thought to herself with mirth, if she could see me like this, drunk and untidy. Melly was dead though, and Ashley was dead inside. She's dead and I can do as I please! But how queer, Scarlett thought, some nights it seems as though Melly is standing at my bedside. Where was that man who lived with her? She had forgotten his name already. Perhaps she had killed him. Come to think of it, there _had _been something the matter with him…

She would make the journey down the street to visit Ashley every week or so, the rest of the time she lay in bed with an open bottle. Wine, champagne, even whiskey, but Scarlett loved her brandy most of all. The crutch of her widowhoods and now her constant companion, Scarlett was never without it.

The sky was bright pink, the light oddly reflecting upon the roofs, giving Atlanta a rather rosy quality. Bah! Scarlett was getting soft, thinking about the color of the sky. Ashley would have observed such a thing once, but now he lay useless in his own bed. He could wallow in his pain; Scarlett chose brandy. She would go to him, not wait for him to come to her.

Knocking gently on his door, she was greeted by little Beau. The child would never be handsome like Ashley, for he was horsy and plain-faced, and already the tragic victim of a receding hairline. Was Charlie so hopeless? Scarlett couldn't even remember him.

Ashley was holding onto the banister, hauling himself down the steep stairs as if he wanted to hurl himself down them but didn't have the strength to make the effort. At the sight of his lost, grief-stricken face, Scarlett was filled with intense hatred.

"Ashley?"

When he said nothing, she tried again. "Do look at this hat, Ashley. Its just come from Paris. I wonder if it's not my color? Ashley?"

"Lovely." Ashley's voice was hollow.

"Perhaps I should return it…Perhaps it doesn't sit well on my head?"

"Lovely." Ashley spoke again, as if to someone sitting opposite him. He's gone crazy, Scarlett thought. He's lost his mind and now I'm stuck with him!

"Come along, Ashley," Scarlett grabbed his arm. "No sense in you drinking alone."

"Good God!" Ashley choked out in a voice dripping with agony, "It's eight o'clock in the morning!"

"I know you're drunk, Ashley, and soon I hope to be as drunk as you. Look at me, damn you!"

"Papa?" Beau's pinched little face peered into the drawing room at his wailing ghost of a father.

"Go away, Beau. Your Daddy is very sick."

"Will he die like Mother did?"

"Not if you're a good boy. Now go upstairs and shut the door."

"Don't scold him, Scarlett." Ashley attempted to stand. "He's just a child."

"Aren't we all children?

Ashley put a hand over his breast as though she had wounded him. It took nothing to strike him in the heart. Hard words were new to him; her callous nature was slowly etching out every memory of Melanie. She would beat her yet!

Ashley took his hand and grabbed hold of Scarlett's shoulders, refusing to meet her eyes.

Alarm passed over her pretty face. He does not love me!

No matter how sultry she could appear to a man, the gentle innocence of someone like Melly would always triumph, and Melly was dead. Ashley would be dead soon as well.

I will have committed murder twice over when he's dead. I will kill him as I killed her! I killed Melly as I kissed Ashley. With every embrace, I killed her. With every impure thought, I killed her. And now I'm killing him, with a few drops of brandy. Oh splendid amber liquid, I shall pick my poison, my favorite weapon. Ashley will die with me in his arms and none will mourn us, the broken man and his concubine.

Watch me do it, Melly! Watch me kill him like I killed you!

She slowly and seductively poured the glass of amber liquid and put it to his lips. "Drink, my love. Drink and feel no more pain."

"_I killed her. I killed her." Scarlett's mouth was forming the same words over and over again. _

"_Please, Scarlett!" Melanie sobbed as she held her hand. "Stop this nonsense. I'm right here, love. I won't leave you."_

Scarlett stood over Ashley's dead body. Worthless man! How dare he succumb to the poison. Melly had, of course; her gentle nature took to it naturally. And when she drew her last breath, it was with words of love for Scarlett on her lips. Rot in hell, Ashley Wilkes! Rot in hell!

Scarlett left the house in a rush, covering Ashley's corpse with a ragged blanket. Her bottle of poisoned brandy was still on his table. Perhaps I should have gone through with it myself, she thought bitterly, poison would be a better fate than this.

"Mother! Mother!" Bonnie's voice carried from the sidewalk. She was older than Scarlett had remembered, about six or so. She wore a blue velvet riding habit, looking verily like a fairy princess astride her fat little black pony. "Watch me jump, Mother!"

"You're mighty pretty, precious!"

Scarlett stopped in her tracks as another woman spoke to her child. That man has married again! The nerve of him!

The forms of her daughter and the pony disappeared into a hazy mist, which engulfed most of the scenery. Suddenly, the grey-gold sun blinded Scarlett and she was left only with the memory of the little voice calling out for her mother. It might have been me once, she thought to herself…

The haze of the street lifted slightly and she beheld two figures, one, a small-framed woman holding the hand of a little girl.

"Bonnie?" Scarlett saw her daughter, in whose face there flickered no hint of recognition. "Melly?"

The woman's eyes met hers. Melanie's expression was blank and cold.

"Two souls are required for what you have done."

"Not Bonnie!" Scarlett screamed at the top of her lungs. "Take Ella if you must, not Bonnie!"

"Why do you insist upon hurting those whom you love most, Scarlett?" said Melanie.

Scarlett cried out for Melanie to curse her, to hurl hateful words and accusations; but there was no hate in her eyes, merely pity.

_Scarlett's heart stopped beating at eleven o'clock in the evening. Melanie had screamed for Mammy to fetch Doctor Meade right away, to drag him out of bed if necessary, only to find that Scarlett was revived only moments later. _

"_I've not forgotten my bargain, Lord." Melanie was on her knees in earnest prayer. "Spare Scarlett, and I offer you myself."_

"_Melly?" Scarlett's eyes feasted upon Melanie hungrily. "You're here?"_

"_Oh Scarlett! Thanks be to God!"_

"_Melly, please. Say you'll forgive me! Please, Melly! I thought…Oh Melly!"_

"_I'm here, Scarlett. And I won't leave you. I promise." _


	5. The Wild Rover

**Chapter 5: The Wild Rover**

_**I'll go home to my parents, confess what I've done **__**And I'll ask them to pardon their prodigal son. **__**And if they forgive me as ofttimes before **__**Sure I never will play the wild rover no more. **_

_Bonnie hated staying the night at other people's houses almost as much as she hated the dark. Even when her Daddy had taken her to London and bought her beautiful toys and clothes, she had cried and cried for her home and for Mother. The unfairness of it all weighed heavily upon Bonnie's small shoulders. She had gotten her way, as was customary, and returned home to her Mother and her pony and her brother and sister-and then her Mother had gotten sick! Her Aunt Melly had attempted to explain that there had been another baby, and it had been lost. But how could someone lose a baby, Bonnie asked herself, of all the things to lose! _

_She had been tucked in by Dilcey, Beau's Mammy, next to Ella, who lay snoring softly…but she wasn't tired. How could Ella sleep when there were sick mothers and lost babies? Bonnie waited until she was certain that Uncle Ashley had gone to bed and that Dilcey was safely occupied. The boys would be up talking for hours, but they wouldn't hear her. Carefully, Bonnie crept down the stairs. She fumbled for a few minutes to find the front door in the dark, but quickly she did and exited. _

_Filled with the thrill of rebellion, Bonnie's blue eyes lit up with mirth and she bounded down the street, knowing the way home by heart. The door was ajar, and the hallway fully lit. Bonnie snuck carefully into the parlor where she would presumably be undetected by Mammy. She liked this room, for she knew that her mother often slept here. Bonnie heard her as she gingerly walked down the steps and had her drink from the fancy bottle. It was all a very fascinating ritual to Bonnie, who would peer through the rails of the banister after her daddy had gone to sleep to watch her mother. She had almost been caught once; her mother had seen the shadow from the steps come down over her face and had nearly discovered Bonnie lurking. Fortunately for Bonnie, she had returned to the drink she had already poured and stayed there long enough for Bonnie to return to her daddy's room. _

_Bonnie laid under the table for a long time, feeling like a bat about to make its escape from a dark cave. She was a little bit wet and cold from the damp night, for her nightgown was thin and she wore no shoes. Ladies always wear their shoes out, she heard Mammy's stern admonitions in her head. Oh well, she sighed, Mother is more important than being a lady. Bonnie put her hand over her mouth-it was Mammy! She heard the footsteps of the old woman creak down the staircase, the red silk petticoat she loved to wear rustling as it brushed against the rail. The ham that Bonnie had eaten so greedily at supper was in her throat, threatening to come back up. She couldn't be discovered, not by Mammy._

_But Mammy didn't look mad. She was crying, Bonnie could see that plain as day. Mother was still sick then, Bonnie thought with horror. She had assumed that as soon as Mother got better they would all look for the lost baby together and then she would have a baby brother or sister to play with. Much as Bonnie wanted to hug Mammy and ask about her mother, she was frightened, and needed to see for herself. Carefully, she tread up the flight of stairs, tiptoeing towards her mother's room. _

_The door was wide open, inviting her to come in. Aunt Melly was there too, along with Dr. Meade, who Bonnie privately thought smelled like dead fish and didn't like very much. 'Where is Daddy?' Bonnie asked herself. The sight of her mother's face, filled with unrest and constantly looking around with wide eyes, shook Bonnie to her very core. The baby must be really lost, Bonnie reasoned. Daddy must be out looking for it too. So should I! Without a word, Bonnie slipped back down the stairs like a little wraith. Bravely, she faced the darkness of the night, and trekked out to the stables to find her little pony…. _

"Pa! How silly you are!"

Gerald was cursing loudly, flailing about on the dining room table. For all that he was under five feet tall, he was well muscled and had required several field hands to haul him, broken knee and all.

"Mr. O'Hara!" Ellen O'Hara attempted to examine the swollen bruised looking knee, muttering instructions to Mammy and Pork to send for Doctor Fontaine. "You must sit still, you're badly hurt."

"Tis but a scratch, so it is! I'll not be sittin' here a wasting the day away. When Beatrice Tarleton herself is waiting for me to examine her new stallion."

"Mr. O'Hara, Scarlett can go to Fairhill and tell the Tarletons you'll be delayed. You'd like that, wouldn't you dear? Now tell Pork to call for the carriage. Mammy? My kit, please."

"Oh Pa, why did you jump that fence again? Why?"

"Well Katie Scarlett, so it's cheek you're giving me now. If Mrs. O'Hara had sent your pretty little self to Twelve Oaks, I wager you'd already be out that door!"

Scarlett, a strikingly pretty girl of fourteen, put her hands on her hips in irritation. "Pa!"

"I see how you be looking at young Mr. Ashley since he's back from Europe. A poor choice, Katie Scarlett. The laddie's not fixed right. All the book learning in the world won't make him an OWWW! Mrs. O'Hara! It's killing me you are!"

"I'm trying to stabilize your knee, Mr. O'Hara." Ellen smiled slightly at her bellowing husband.

"Oh bother Ashley, Pa! He's nothing to me anymore! Understand, Pa?"

"Mrs. O'Hara! It's libation I'm needing if you're going to keep this pain up."

"Did you hear me, Pa? I'm going to marry a dark man with a long black moustache like Mammy Jincy said! No foolish Ashley for me, Pa! Do you hear me? Pa! Mother! Are any of you listening to me at all?"

"Aye Puss. A noise tis your making with your poor Pa's head spinning so."

"Ashley's going to marry Melanie Hamilton, Pa. His cousin."

"Who is that, Scarlett?" Ellen asked as she worked on her husband's knee. "Is she a relation to Miss Sarah Jane Hamilton?"

"Of course, Aunt Pitty, she's Melly's…" Scarlett's voice trailed off as she observed her mother's bewildered face. "Mother? You do know Melly, don't you?"

"I'm sorry, my dear. The name doesn't come to me."

Scarlett shuffled out of the room, which suddenly seemed a little greyer, like a shadow had been cast over it. This is what a world without Melly would look like, she thought to herself.

She meandered out to the front porch, looking for someone to speak to. If not Mother, who? Ashley was riding up the long avenue. She knew it instinctively though she did not see his face. Who could mistake Ashley's fine seat upon his horse, his graceful dismount and his perfect flourish as he tossed his mount's reins to the closest pickaninny? His eyes were as drowsy as ever and his Panama hat was instantly in his hands as he beheld her. She waited for him to say it, 'well Scarlett, so you've grown up', in his beautiful voice, resonant and musical…but he did not.

"I've come to say goodbye, my dear." Ashley bowed deeply. "I'm going to study music at the Conservatory in Paris. I won't be back to the County for a further three years."

"But Ashley?" Scarlett's voice had a pleading quality which she did not like, but she continued. "Ashley? What about the war? If the war comes, you'll have to fight like all the other boys! And there's Melly, of course. Aren't you engaged to Melly?"

Ashley stepped closer to Scarlett, his wide black cravat showing off his white shirt to perfection. He is too perfect, she thought, it hurts to look at him.

"My dear Scarlett. I'm engaged to no one. My father mentioned a Burr cousin in Macon, but none of the young ladies strike any affection in me."

"Oh Ashley…your whole life is worthless without her!"

"My dear?" Ashley looked hurt.

"Everything you are is her!" Scarlett backed up from him in angry recognition. "It's not my fault that you're a coward. If you were a man you would have told me long ago you didn't love me. I'm not so very wicked at all. If Melly had never been born, you wouldn't have been _you_!"

"_Scarlett?" Melanie tried again to wipe her face. She had seemed so much better, and now she was engaged in a vivid conversation within her mind. Melanie had thought for a moment that Scarlett was addressing her parents, but then realized that she was speaking to Ashley. _

"_All of you is her," Scarlett's lips moved. "That's all, Ashley."_

"_Oh Scarlett!" Melanie sobbed. I hate India, she thought bitterly. I hate her for making Scarlett feel so horribly guilty and Captain Butler so hurt. I simply shan't receive her, sister-in-law or no sister-in-law. Scarlett's eyes widened and she sat up in bed. _

"_Where's Bonnie? She was here, I saw her! I did, Melly! Oh Melly, I must have been having another dream. Oh Melly, please speak to me, tell me its you, tell me you're really here!"_

"_Its me, darling! Oh Scarlett, my dear, you must not overexert yourself. Bonnie's with Ella and Wade and Beau at my house. So see, my dear, she's quite safe. Lay down, dear. That's good. I'll call for Captain Butler, he'll be so pleased."_

"_No!" Scarlett grabbed Melanie's arm. "Melly. You must tell me something, please, please, swear to it."_

"_Anything, dearest. Oh, I am so glad to see you better."_

"_Promise me you won't try to have any more children. Please, Melly. I beg you."_

_Melanie's breath felt caught in her throat and the blush of her cheeks threatened to expose the secret she had been so carefully hiding. _

"_Melly, you could die and-oh Melly-I would be lost without you, and so would Ashley and Beau. Melly? Please say you won't!"_

_Melly sighed heavily. "I promise, Scarlett…"_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Dear readersreviewers, thank you SO much for the comments; they've been so kind. I'm so pleased that you've taken the time to read my work. I hope you're enjoying it as well! I love reviews, as they help me clarify/develop the story as well as improve upon my writing. So, if you've been wondering, the italicized portions are in 'real time' (ie: directly after Scarlett's tragic fall and subsequent miscarriage). **

**I have two GWTW fics going at the same time; they are completely different, and I've gotten a phenomenal response to both. So, keep those reviews coming and it keeps my muse working overtime! Thank you!**


	6. A Sailor Courted a Planter's Daughter

**Chapter 6: A Sailor Courted a Planter's Daughter**

_**She said, for sailors, we don't admire them because they sail to so many landsAnd the more they love us, the more they'll slight us and leave us after with broken hearts**_

_When the sound of Melanie's little footsteps had finally faded, Rhett sat up in his bed. I killed Scarlett, I killed her, I killed her! Again and again he repeated the words like a litany._

_He turned his head towards her portrait, which hung above his bed. Her eyes were cold, loveless. He would set fire to it! Yes, the idea of her burning flesh was tantalizing to his animalistic desires. In a fit of rage, his hand shot out to reach for his gun. He would shoot her in the heart and then set her aflame. _

_He glanced across the room into the gilded mirror, seeing himself surrounded by Scarlett's hideous taste. Indeed, she does surround me in all things. Hand trembling, he placed the revolver on the nightstand and tentatively walked toward his reflection, hoping for a vision. The eyes that stared back at him were paler than his own, the face in which they rested was ravaged by old age. She's done this! _

_He thoughts were filled with hate for her, and he clawed at his eyes with his fingers. Shuddering, he pulled himself away from the horrible mirror and stared out the window. The rain was beating down upon the roof in a terrible rendition of the crescendo of Sherman's march. _

_He turned his eyes again to Scarlett, as though she was his lifeline, his only hope against slipping into a place more terrible than the cruel reality of life. And she was gone. He felt the chill of her loss deep within his breast and it came at him like a dagger thrust straight to the heart. Oh yes, he hated her, but she had beaten him. She had won. His shaking hands reached once more for the revolver. _

_"Here's to my love," he quoted. "Thus with a kiss, I die."_

"I ain't gonna sit here and hold yer hand one more minute."

Belle Watling glared at Rhett, who peered up from his full plate of supper apprehensively. He knew that Belle loved him dearly, and he returned her love for him on some level; and yet, there were moments in which he could not endure her presence, and tonight was one of those nights.

"You come down here with a different tale about that trashy Miz Hamilton every night. It's new bonnets this, and sparklin' green eyes that. I 'spect you spent half yer blockade earnin's buying her some new trinket. Ain't I the one that said it last month after you danced with her at that ball? You'd think there weren't a war goin' on, the way this town gossips 'bout folk's personal business!"

"You're quite right about _that_, Belle," Rhett sighed.

"What did she have on today? Has she stopped wearin' black completely now?"

"Stop it. Hear me, Belle? Stop it. Do listen to me now, sweetheart. I know it's difficult for you, but try. I'm telling you, for the last time, that I am completely and totally disinterested in the-how did you phrase it-the trashy Mrs. Hamilton."

Belle tossed her red hair prettily and began to massage his shoulders. She put her full red lips to his ear and whispered into it seductively.

"Yer whipped. She's got you wrapped around her little pinkie and you don't even know it yet. And I thought I'd never live to see the day."

Rhett turned around and took the hand of the woman before him. Belle was still nice-looking, though she had become quite heavy in her recent prosperous years under his patronage. He spoke to her as if he were addressing a slow child.

"I enjoy teasing Mrs. Hamilton because she's so unfortunate. She's awful, just awful. It's something she was born with, I think. No sense of decency, nor human kindness. Yet, she's mastered the veneer of respectability…a real lady! What do you think of that, Belle?"

"I think she's trash," Belle declared. "There's a word for her type. One of yer fancy names I don't understand. But I know trash when I see it and for as high and mighty as she is, she's nothing but deservin' of the word."

"She's a moron! That's her only trouble." Rhett uttered aloud. "That and she's in love with a simpleton. A well read, well bred simpleton, but a simpleton nonetheless."

"And you want to make her forget about him?" Belle asked shrewdly.

"I want to show her a good time," Rhett attempted nonchalance, though he knew that Belle knew better.

"I keep thinking 'bout what life would look like if you was to be the next one."

"Next what, Belle?"

"Husband. That woman's nothin' if not greedy. And she's young and lusty-I seen that in her too, don't think I don't-she'll be lookin' hard for someone to warm her bed soon as this war's over."

"That's where you lack expertise, Belle. Women. Now don't think I hold that against you, honey, but your business is men and you should stick to familiar territory. I know a thing or two about women and this one is about as much of a contradiction as I've ever seen. Intimate but untouchable. She's the strangest lady I ever met."

"You sound like yer courtin' her." Belle smirked. "And yer fallin' in love with her 'cause you can't understand her. You ain't got her figured like you had me and all them gals from back home."

"It's in my nature, Belle," Rhett smiled wryly. "I have peculiar weakness for lost causes."

Belle shook her head emphatically, her eyes filled with pity. "Long time courtin', but little won."

"What do you mean by that, Belle?"

"Just a ditty," Belle shrugged, "'bout a sailor tryin' to court a planter's daughter."

With a heavy dose of exasperation, he groaned. "She's just an unfortunate, pretty face."

"And you love her," Belle smirked. "For at least another day. How many more's it gonna be, Rhett?"

Rhett got up quickly, not wanting to yell at Belle, but feeling keenly the sharp stab of the possibility that perhaps she was right, the consequences of which he did not want to consider. He bowed slightly and left the room, closing the door on Belle and her poorly worded, yet infinite wisdom. He walked slowly down the steps of the sporting house, passing by the grasping arms and low moans of the girls whose beds he usually frequented.

Rhett didn't want a woman tonight, no woman that Belle had to offer, at least. He exited from the front door, not giving a fig about who had seen him leave. He had long since been branded a blackguard and a cad; such behavior was expected.

He mused about speaking to Miss O'Hara again. She had ceased to be Mrs. Hamilton in his mind the moment she had danced with him at the bazaar, no, she was Miss O'Hara, the pretty girl in the green muslin dress. Had she been an intellectual at all, he might have discussed current events, the weather, the war, anything. Had she been sentimental, he would have written her a pretty verse, or perhaps commissioned a work of art in her honor. This girl was different, a little hypocrite, completely devoid of a conscience yet terrified if others would discover her shameful ways.

Rhett sighed as he passed by Pittypat Hamilton's house. He wondered if Scarlett was at home, enjoying supper with the woman she probably wished would drop dead. Little devil, he growled aloud. Why the hell had she come to Atlanta anyway? Her precious Ashley would be long absent before he would be granted furlough. What had drawn her here, besides the company of the wife of the man she claimed to be in love with?

Rhett ran his fingers through his black hair and felt cynical. As he scrutinized the street surrounding the house, he was granted further insights. He rubbed his eyes, hard, and thought that he was hallucinating. A little girl, no more than five, was riding bareback on a fat black pony. He squinted, thinking perhaps he had had too much to drink.

"Daddy!" the little girl cried jubilantly, waving as though she knew him. "Daddy! Daddy, wait for me!"

"I'm not your Daddy!" Rhett called out to her. "Go home, honey, you'll catch your death."

"Daddy!" the little girl yelled.

Rhett took off running, the child's cries following him.

"It's dark!" she screamed in abject terror. "Don't leave me, Daddy!"

"Go home! Leave me alone! Get the hell away from me!"

"Daddy!" the shriek of the child rang in his ears, and he peered behind him, seeing only the flailing legs of the pony, and an overturned carriage.

Quickly, he ran towards the scene.

"The child!" he yelled in horror. He fell to his knees, stopping short of the wreckage. The only thing visible was the tiny white hand.


	7. The Fight Upon the Hill

**Chapter 7: The Fight on the Hill**

**Thou mine Inheritance, now and and Thou only, first in my heart**

Rhett remained standing on the street just long enough for the scene to melt away in front of him. There was something familiar in the child's voice, some desperate pleading quality which he had heard before. He rubbed his eyes again. He was still outside Pittypat's house, but it was desolate and abandoned, the foul odor of human stench on the street and the remnants of Sherman's shells still exploding like claps of thunder.

He heard the child's screams again in his mind. He didn't have children. Why would he care?

"I have done nothing wrong!" he screeched.

The scenery changed about him in an epic swirl of color. He was standing high atop a hill of green. He reeled back as if he were at the very peak of an abyss. The sun was golden against the grey sky. There was no escape, unless he wanted to brave the fall…

"What have I done to deserve this?" he cried desperately. "I have done nothing wrong!"

"Haven't you though?" a voice still boasting the heavy brogue of County Meath penetrated his thoughts.

"I have done nothing wrong!" Rhett repeated. Damn the voice, it was making his ears ring.

"You left her. And then its killing her you're doing."

"I haven't left anyone. Leave me alone, you worthless Mick!"

"It's killing her."

The words echoed within his mind over and over, each time striking him like a blow to the chest. He felt the air leave his lungs and the color drain from his face.

"Am I dying? Are you the devil?"

The devil appeared in front of him, blue eyes devoid of their sparkle.

"Gerald O'Hara?"

Gerald leered at Rhett, who fell to his knees. Rhett lowered his eyes, unable to look into Gerald's face.

"It's guilty you are, Rhett Butler. Even if you know it not yet. And you'll lose her, sure as I'm standing here, that which is most precious to you."

"Scarlett?" Rhett croaked hesitantly.

Gerald smirked. "You will lose everything."

Rhett met Gerald's eyes, which seemed to look right past him rather than at him. Inside them he beheld his own face, diluted and twisted into something horribly ugly.

"What have I done to deserve it?" he cried, hands outstretched.

"Nemo me impune lacessit."

"How have I wronged _you_?" Rhett cried, his face contorted in pain. He shut his eyes again. Scarlett's face was in his mind, she was a child again, running to Gerald's waiting arms. She was waving frantically at him, the memory of her green eyes was forever imprinted upon his soul.

"You promised to love her. And you lied."

Rhett was paralyzed. The image of Scarlett faded into the blackness. With agony, Rhett cried out to the ghostly Gerald:

"I'll make it up to her! She'll never hear anything but kind words from my lips! I swear on my life, I'll make it up to her! She will never suffer again because of my failings! I swear it, I swear it!"

Gerald's mouth hardened.

"Lies."

_Rhett rubbed his eyes hard as the sun shone in through the window. The revolver was on the floor, cocked and ready. "How foolish I've been!" Rhett cried aloud. _

_He rose heavily, feeling a tender knot rising on the back of his head from where he had struck it on the nightstand. Scarlett's eyes in the portrait were staring down at him with an unforgiving smirk, as if she were amused by his antics._

_My God! Scarlett! Rhett hurried down the hallway to Scarlett's room. He would kiss her, tell her that he loved her, that everything that was wrong between them would be righted. A fresh burst of life filled him, and he said it again in his mind: I love her. _

_The candles were still burning in the hallway, though no one was present. Why are they lit, Rhett wondered, it's morning. It's another day! He reeled backward as the sound of Mammy's sobs reached his ears. He found her sitting at the top of the staircase, her large brown face hidden in her hands, wailing. _

"_Mammy?" Rhett's face was pale. "Scarlett? NO!"_

_He dashed into the bedroom with a sense of dread. She's dead, he thought, and I didn't tell her…_

_The big bed was empty, but Melanie was standing there, clad in blue, the sun from the open window catching her hair like a halo. She smiled brightly at him, her presence working on him like a soothing balm. _

"_Look, Captain Butler. Its our Scarlett."_

_Indeed, Scarlett was sitting up in her wing chair, assisted heavily by Dr. Meade, who was scowling. "Now no sudden movements, Scarlett. You'll stay in bed at least three days."_

"_Fiddle-dee-dee, Doctor Meade." Scarlett's voice was hoarse but strong. "I'm quite well, thank you."_

"_If the doctor says you need to stay in bed you will," Rhett knelt down next to her and took her small hands in his. "You'll do it even if I have to chain you to it myself."_

"_Let's give Captain Butler and Scarlett some privacy, Doctor Meade," Melanie said politely. The good doctor nodded and collected his bag, shutting the door behind him with a look of annoyance. _

"_You're alive," Rhett uttered reverently. _

"_Don't act so surprised," Scarlett raised an eyebrow. "If I could make it past the Yankee line all by myself I could certainly handle a little old flight of stairs."_

"_The baby?" Rhett asked hesitantly. _

"_We don't know yet," Scarlett glossed over the topic. "Oh Rhett, I had the strangest dreams as I've been lying here. I was thinking about Twelve Oaks and Tara and all the times before the war. It was just like they were happening over again, down to little details, only differently…does that make sense?"_

_Rhett took her hand gently. _

"_Tell me about this dream."_

"_I don't know where to start. Rhett, tell me about the day we met…at Twelve Oaks."_

"_You threw a glass figurine at me."_

"_Did I? Think hard on it, Rhett."_

_Rhett closed his eyes, knowing the memory like the back of his hand. She had thrown herself at Ashley and he had listened in gleeful silence as she poured her little heart out. _

"_You told Ashley that he was worse than a cad and we kissed passionately on the loveseat."_

_Rhett put his hand over his mouth. Where the hell had that come from? Surely he wasn't still drunk. _

"_That was my dream exactly," Scarlett's eyes were wide. "And Pa, and my grandmother and Melly and oh dear, I think I might have killed Ashley."_

"_No!" Rhett put his hand to his mouth in mock horror. "What a terrible loss for humanity."_

"_Rhett, don't tease me. I dreamt about Bonnie too, I think. Am I crazy, Rhett? Doctor Meade thought that I hit my head."_

_Rhett's face went white. The child on the pony. The little girl screaming for him. _

"_Melanie!" Rhett bellowed. "Where's Bonnie?"_

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><p><strong>AN: Thanks to everyone for the feedback. Keep it coming! :)**


	8. The Little Beggarman

**Chapter 8: The Little Beggarman**

_**A-waitin' in for the mornin'**__**I slept till the dawn**__**With the holes in the roof and the rain a-comin' through  
><strong>__**And the cats and the rats they were playin' peeka-boo**_

The three unlovely creatures who were left behind in the Wilkes nursery wore identical expressions of bewilderment. Bonnie was gone, and with her the attention of their parents and caretakers. Only Ashley had stayed behind to tend them, for he dealt with Bonnie the least and Melly insisted that he would be of no particular use. He kept his undesirable burden to himself for several hours, not having the heart to tell the children that the little girl had escaped in the middle of the night and was presumably wandering around Atlanta in only a nightdress.

Ella noticed first, alarm shining in her dim little eyes. "Bonnie's gone!" Ella sobbed. "She's gone like Mother's baby is gone."

Ashley took her hand as though he were her father and rocked her to sleep. If Bonnie is harmed, he thought, I shall never forgive myself.

Around noon, Ashley called the children into the parlor and began to address them.

"Suppose she's lost?" Beau whispered. He really was a wretched looking child with little personality and rather rheumy eyes. But he was a creature of fact, not fancy, and although he could have never been called charming, he owned some sort of appeal that even those blessed with great good looks could never have hoped to attain if they had not been born with it.

His cousin Wade, a pale, torpid boy of eleven, shook his head. "Uncle Rhett will find her."

Wade's face expressed in it such unshakeable trust in his stepfather that it would be taken care of, that his sister would be safely returned, Ashley did not have the heart to speak of the matter further. The boy was reserved around strangers, long accustomed to living in an isolated little world away from people. Ashley was of the opinion that Wade, not Beau, resembled himself the most both in manner and in intelligence. Coolly aloof generally, the boy was blessed and cursed with an intense appreciation of all things beautiful.

Calmly, Wade offered to read aloud to diffuse some of the tension. Ashley watched the struggle for bravery occur within the boy's mind with marked interest, although Wade was most likely unaware that he was being heroic.

Ella, the girl, said nothing, as though her already limited power of speech had left her entirely. The defects in Ella's mind were of a permanent nature, perhaps brought about by something innate, God-given, or perhaps they stemmed from a lack of interest from her mother. She was a bright enough child, having a talent for arithmetic that surpassed even her brother; and yet, when called upon to relay a simple answer to a question, she fell instantly silent. Consequently, Ella had the tendency to become invisible, so much so that the people who made up her little sphere barely had a second word for her.

But they were really very good children, despite their lack of pleasing qualities. Bonnie, Ashley thought with a stab of guilt, was really quite horrid. Bonnie flew from one escapade to another, from a temper tantrum to a screaming fit in a matter of seconds. Despite her prettiness, Bonnie had the reputation for being the most ill-mannered child in the entire neighborhood, and for a neighborhood filled with miscreants, the title was well earned. She delighted in the smallest things, and Ashley always made an effort to make a good impression on her, for she was the child who reminded him most of Scarlett. And now the little princess was absent, leaving a gaping hole in the cocoon which had held the four children together all of their lives.

"What shall we do then, children?" Ashley said somberly. "Wade, would you like to read to us?"

Wade already had a story chosen. "The Little Beggarman," he began, his voice pleasant and somehow able to make the title sound gayer and more lively than it appeared on paper.

"This is an Irish tale," he clarified to Ella and Beau. Ashley smiled with polite bemusement at the boy's scholarly manner.

Wade continued in his musical voice, speaking so resonantly that Ashley thought for a moment that he was back at Twelve Oaks, sitting under the shade of one of the magnificent old trees on a warm summer's day. Ashley closed his eyes and remembered well a story that Mr. O'Hara had told him long ago…the absence of Bonnie's florid face and loud little voice made the little Irishman seem even clearer in Ashley's mind.

"A man once always had one eye weeping and the other smiling. He had three daughters, of whom the oldest was rather foolish. One day, out of curiosity, the daughters each asked why one eye was weeping and the other smiling. The father went into a rage, which frightened off the younger sisters but not the oldest one. So the father told his daughter that his right eye smiled because he was glad to have a daughter like her, but his left eye wept because he once had owned land, prosperous and full of life, and it had been burned to the ground.

All three daughters set out to make the land rich again for their father, but the youngest parted with her older sisters at a crossroads. A lame beggarman came up to the older sisters to beg bread, and the middle one attempted to drive him off with sticks, so he went to the eldest sister, and grudgingly, she fed him.

The man told the sisters how to work the land, and to dig it up with a wooden shovel rather than an iron one. But the oldest sister, being headstrong, thought the wooden shovel would not be strong enough, but the noise the iron shovel made woke the guards.

Her captors told her that she could have the deed to the land if she brought them a golden apple. She went back to meet the beggarman, who told her where it was, and to use the wooden rather than the golden pole to get it, but she used the golden pole, which woke the guards.

They told her to bring them a horse that could circle the world in a day. The beggar told her where to steal such a mount, and to use the hempen halter rather than the golden one. She failed again, and her new captor told her that she could be free if she brought him a golden knight who never saw the sun or moon. She persuaded the man to lend her the horse to help find such a cavalier.

The beggarman led the oldest daughter to a cave where she found such a knight in shining armor. With a kiss, she awoke him from his slumber and led him to the horse. The beggar said it was a pity she had to exchange him, and turned himself into a replica of the knight. So the oldest daughter got back her father's land and married the real golden knight as well."

"What happened then?" Beau's shrill voice roused Ashley from his daydream. "What happened to the beggar?"

"He became a prisoner. He sacrificed himself for the freedom of the golden knight." Ashley answered his son.

"That doesn't make sense!" Beau protested. Ashley sighed. Suffering never made any sense to children, but Beau would never let the point lie. Again, he addressed him. "There are things greater than ourselves, Beau. Honor, for instance."

"He wasn't honor bound to help her," Beau railed. "He tried to help her, again and again. And she just did the opposite of what he said and got into trouble."

"Who does that remind you of?" Wade smirked slightly.

Scarlett, Ashley thought to himself.

"Bonnie!" Ella giggled. "Bonnie always gets into trouble 'cause she doesn't listen."

"We do," Wade said wisely. "We would get a whipping, else."

"But Bonnie is so sweet, we love her anyway," Ella continued in a singsong voice; she could have easily been speaking about one of her baby dolls. "And if she was good all the time, how would we remember her if she doesn't come back? We would never want her to think we forgot about her."

They began to exchange stories about Bonnie, tales that restated how much she loved life, how she had fallen off her pony time and time again and brushed off her habit and carried on resiliently, how she ran, sang, played, and danced mischievously. Children never stare in the face of unpleasantness, Ashley mused. Children create a prettier world than the one in which we live. I've done that my entire life; perhaps I've never entirely grown up.

He looked upon them, marveling at their newfound happiness and composure. They were extraordinary, the children, the little triumvirate of tenderness.

A loud rapping at Ashley's front door again pulled him away from his pleasant thoughts and the company of the children. He hurried down the stairs with a look of fear pronounced upon his white face. Dizzy, his spirits collapsed as he beheld his wife's tortured looking face staring back at him. She stood dripping in their immaculate hallway, her blue cloak soaked. Her mouth was twisted into an expression of despair, contorted so much so that it scarcely looked like Melly.

"It's Bonnie. We found her on the McDonough Road. There had been an accident. It was raining and she took that little pony and-Ashley! She's dead."

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><p><strong>AN: Before anybody gets too upset, remember the previous a/n-this section is intentionally NOT in italics. **


	9. The Bonny Bunch of Roses

**Chapter 9: The Bonny Bunch of Roses**

_**Oh, mother, adieu for ever, **__**I am now on my dying bed,**__**If I had liv'd I'd have been brave**__**But now I droop my youthful head.**_

_The little girl opened her eyes gingerly. They hurt. She squinted under the bright light above her. Her head was spinning. She felt herself flying, then falling, then spinning, going upward and upward and upward. Suddenly, she stopped._

_Then, there were flowers…flowers everywhere…And music! Music loud enough to wake the dead. _

Scarlett's dream always stopped so that it would end directly where Melanie would stand waiting to meet her. True to life, Melanie was waiting for her to awaken, her thin face beaming into a smile which quickly faded as she beheld Scarlett's obvious anguish. The sorrowful look that replaced the smile was so complete that Scarlett realized, for the first time in her life, she was seriously ill. Why shouldn't I be ill? Bonnie's dead. Bonnie's dead and soon Melly will die and Rhett will leave me. Scarlett trembled as she beheld Melanie's face; she looked aghast. Some part of her was morbidly pleased that Melly recognized her illness. I wish she would sicken and die, Scarlett thought bitterly, then I wouldn't have to think about it anymore.

She gave a little cry as she sat up, assisted by Melanie.

"You don't look well, Scarlett." Melanie said, staring at her stomach with fresh concern. "How are you feeling, in truth?"

"I don't feel like talking, Melly. Won't you run away now?"

"Of course, Scarlett. If that's what you want. I'll be right outside should you need anything."

I want Bonnie back, Scarlett thought. But she's dead and you're dying and Rhett is leaving me. She had felt her illness return the moment Melly told her that Bonnie was dead. The pony had thrown her, Melly said. Her neck was broken; she didn't suffer. Of course she didn't! The dead never suffer. They just die! And then they leave the living to those of us that have failed them in some way.

"I've changed my mind, Melly," she said, her voice shaking.

Melanie's eyes brightened. "I'll stay with you, Scarlett. I'll stay with you like you stayed with me. Do you remember when Beau was born, Scarlett?"

The early afternoon was clear and open and surrounded by a terrific blue sky the color of Bonnie's eyes. How cruel! Scarlett thought. How cruel of God to remind me of her. She imagined with great pleasure a roaring thunderstorm, with grey clouds giving way to black ones. Yes, that would be far more pleasing. The illusion lasted only a few moments before she was back in the room, her attention drawn by Melanie's soft voice.

"You must rest, Scarlett," Melanie implored her. "You must rest for the baby."

"That baby died." Scarlett snapped. "Just like Bonnie. And just like you."

Melanie's face went pale. Good, Scarlett thought, I've shocked you.

"You're going to leave me, Melly. You're going to die and your baby along with you. The baby you never should have had."

"Scarlett, you're out of your senses. My darling, please don't speak this way. We are all grieving for Bonnie, especially Captain Butler."

"Of course he is!" Scarlett shrilled. "Of course he grieves for her! Never for me! Always Bonnie and never me. How kind of the man, how doting a father he is! The sainted Captain Butler, married to the most evil shrew in all Atlanta! The woman who threw him out of bed because she was in love with another man! Let them talk, Melly, let them!"

"Scarlett, please!"

"I'm glad Bonnie's dead. I hated her once, Melly…I hated her for every kind word Rhett gave her. I hated her for stealing him! Was that the devil, do you think? Or was it me?"

"You never hated her, Scarlett. You loved her and she loved you. She worshipped the ground you walked on, Scarlett! I saw her, I know it!"

"And I killed her!"

"No!"

"I saw her the night she died and I let her leave. I let her go!"

"Stop it, Scarlett! Please!"

"What the devil is the noise coming from this room?" Rhett growled dangerously.

Scarlett managed to get up on her unsteady legs and to take two steps towards him, but was quickly grabbed by Melanie.

"Scarlett is upset, Captain Butler," Melanie said warningly. "Please, let me handle it."

Rhett grasped Scarlett forcefully by the shoulders and sat her down upon the big bed.

"You're supposed to be resting."

"You don't need to tell me to rest. I'm old enough to know when I'm tired!"

She observed that his eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed. He's been crying, she thought, for Bonnie.

"Well, in that case, Mrs. Butler, you should attempt to get dressed. Our daughter's funeral is in an hour's time."

"I have nothing to wear," Scarlett said coldly. "What shall I wear?"

"My dear, I don't give a damn." He strode out of the room, shaking his head in frustration.

Melanie put her arms around Scarlett, who was sobbing.

"What is it, Scarlett, darling?"

"He's left me, Melly. He's left me."

_The undertaker was a deeply religious man. He would have never been respectable before the war, for he was as common as dirt, with a pedigree of criminals in his bloodline as far back as Oglethorpe's debtors. But the war had come, and he had exhibited great coolness and care with regard to readying the dead for burial. Dead soldiers had seemed more real than the live ones. The live ones could have been little tin soldiers moving about in their mechanical formations, blithering fools that they were. They had been trumped up with self importance and grandiose ideals which they were willing to die for, and die they did. Four star general or lowly private, they all died in the end. When they did, they came to him. _

_Ashes to ashes, the man quoted. The general lies in the same ground as the private; ain't no damn difference when death comes. Death, the great equalizer. _

_When the war was over, the undertaker plied his newfound trade with a new enthusiasm. People still died, even with no battle going on…so he began the rational, tiring pace of preparing Atlanta's dead for their final rest. Methodical work was required for readying the bodies of the fine folks, but the man was skilled. Many days he looked forward to his work with a pleasant sense of anticipation, an emotion that would have been shameful to most. _

_No such qualms existed within the undertaker, for he held that there was something sacred about death…something humbling in the idea that someone could be and then cease to be. But he did not like the idea of preparing these particular children. Children were often lost to disease; but this had been an accident, a tragic, wasteful accident. I must have patience, he told himself as he prepared to view their little forms, I must have patience. _

_The two little figures spread out upon the table were of the same height and weight, each owning dark curls. Their bodies had been out it the rain for several hours; one of them had started to swell around the face, but still looked passably peaceful. The other one was so ghastly to look at that doing so turned the undertaker's stomach. Her small face was quite straight on one side, her cheeks still pink, but the other side was protuberant. Her left eye was contorted and swollen, as though a walnut was lodged within her skull. _

_His face hardened and his eyes attained a steely gleam. He had already been paid for his service, and it was expected to be finished in a very short time. A man by the name of Henry Hamilton had roused the undertaker well before dawn, advising him of an accident on the McDonough Road. A tragic accident had occurred: a carriage had struck a little girl riding her pony. _

_The carriage had overturned into the creek and been swept away, the driver along with it; however, its occupant had been washed ashore. The sole passenger had been a child of no importance, a recent orphan due to the yellow fever outbreak; she was being taken to a convent in Savannah, for she had no other people to claim her. _

_The other girl, Hamilton had said, was Bonnie Blue Butler, the well beloved daughter of the richest man in Atlanta. The undertaker had been instructed to make her presentable for a funeral. Ha! Which one would be more presentable? For that matter, which one was Butler's daughter? The undertaker studied their clothing. The one with the contorted face had on only a shift. Surely the daughter of the most wealthy man in Atlanta would not be out in only a nightgown. _

_Diligently, he readied the other, leaving the other unclaimed one spread out upon his table. _

_He worked well into the morning, until the Butlers' black servant came with the carriage to convey his small mistress home. She looked pretty, did the little girl; the undertaker had done his profession credibly. The undertaker settled the account with the manservant and returned to his office alone and in silence. _

_He reentered the cool room to at least clean the other child's wounds. Poor thing, no people to claim her. He would see to it that she received a Christian burial._

_What he saw caused his heart to lurch wildly within his chest: It was the child, sitting up on the table._

"_Mother of God!" he declared, kneeling instantly, confident that he had witnessed a miracle. _

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Dear readers, fear not; I am way too fond of Bonnie Blue to kill her off! :)**


	10. The Unfortunate Rake

**Chapter 10: The Unfortunate Rake**

_**Don't muffle your drums and play your fifes merrily, Play a quick march as you carry me along, And fire your bright muskets all over my coffin, Saying: There goes an unfortunate lad to his home**_

****Rhett had ordered Pork to carry her body up to his bedroom. She lay with her legs crossed and arms outstretched. Her face was puffy from exposure to the water. The undertaker said that it was to be expected. She didn't even look like Bonnie. Weeping, he lay down next to his daughter. She would have been a queen. She would have had everything his money could buy. But she didn't want that! He cursed himself. She wanted me and Scarlett to love her and love each other. And we've failed. In every way we have failed her.

You're no kind of father! He cursed himself. You're no kind of husband, either! You're a disgrace! This child was an angel, a saint. And you wanted defile her and make her a queen. Queen of what?

His voice was so high and shrill it didn't even sound like his own. The effect of it threatened to make him physically sick.

You did this to her! He kissed her cold hand as he castigated himself.

He picked her up as he had done so often when she had been alive and only sleeping, arranging her little head directly over his strong, beating heart.

His eyes began to move over her body. Her nose was not Bonnie's, her ears were not Bonnie's, Rhett thought with fresh desperation. Perhaps this isn't Bonnie at all! Perhaps she is alive somewhere!

The child's eyes opened. They were dark, like little quartz stones. Her gaze met his.

"Where's my Daddy?"

"I'm here, darling. Your Daddy's right here. I won't leave you, I promise."

"My Daddy is dead. He died along with me and Mother. Take me to him!"

"I'm here, Bonnie. I'm right here."

She observed him coldly. "No. I don't know you."

Rhett set her down on the bed and began to rub his eyes frantically, thinking that he was indeed hallucinating. He took one more look at the body, sleeping peacefully as though he had never disturbed it.

"Melanie!" he called, his voice weak. "Let us set the service as soon as possible."

He returned his gaze to the child, who rested on the coverlet. "You're mighty pretty, child. But you're not my Bonnie."

_When the little girl awoke, she could not see, so tightly had the bandages been wrapped around her eyes. _

"_Will she ever look normal, Doc?"_

_Old Doctor Dean addressed the man. "Only time will tell, sir. Only time will tell."_

"_You've been sayin' that since we brought her home, Doc. That's been near three months ago."_

_The child owned a chilling clarity within her mind in which she felt her life divided into two parts: life before her accident and life after it. The life she had led before inclined her to see the man and his wife who had taken her in as enemies. I'm a wicked girl, she thought. And even so, they had been good to her, so she attempted to stifle this inclination and felt terribly ashamed of herself. The man had told her that she had been reborn, given a new start by God Almighty. _

"_We're fixin' on havin' her baptized next week, once them bandages come off," the man's wife chimed in from above the girl's head. _

_Doctor Dean said nothing and continued to treat the girl._

"_I've a notion to name her Mary Grace," the woman continued. "I always set a store by the name. I do hope she'll be pretty one day."_

"_She's of God!" the man declared. "I saw her come back to life with my own eyes!"_

_The doctor's face betrayed a hint of irritation. His voice was impassive and insensitive, his mind already focused on other cases which needed his attention. _

"_Time will tell," the Doctor parroted. "You should be grateful her health is good. Else she'd never have survived this."_

_The man lurched up, feeling slightly offended. "God delivered her!"_

_The Doctor's lips moved convulsively. "Medicine did, my good sir." _

_The man was clearly ready to strike at the Doctor for his blasphemous speech. _

"_If you'll excuse me, my good man, I'll come round next week and remove the child's bandages."_

"_And she'll take and speak then?" the woman asked, her tone accusative._

_The Doctor's head moved until his eyes rested upon the little girl in the big bed, her face covered in white plaster. His eyes remained there for a moment before he addressed the woman. A strange sensation of recognition filled Doctor Dean, a feeling which he did not explore further. She was a case, nothing more. _

"_I do not know, ma'am. Regrettably even we physicians are not granted all the answers."_

"_I reckon that's the first honest words out of your mouth this day, Doc. Mary Grace here is in the hands of God, Doc…not yours."_

"_Amen!" said his wife._

Scarlett had awoken with the sense that she had missed an opportunity. She had endured a wild dream in which Rhett was chasing her through a never-ending cloud of mist that reverted very suddenly into her chasing him. He had resisted and given her a mighty blow to the head, and then disappeared into the mists from which he had come. At his disappearance, she had felt the weight of a lofty burden leave her shoulders and she had arisen from her bed filled with arch anticipation. Perhaps today would be the day that he left for good.

Patches of sunlight sifted through the shutters and spattered her pale face with golden color. She stretched and realized that there was no getting out of bed. It was as though she was tied there by an invisible anchor. Rhett entered around ten o'clock. She observed his eyes, hoping to detect something within them which would signal his immanent departure, but there was nothing in them to suggest that a decision had been made.

Scarlett's face paled as he climbed into the bed next to her, kissing her forehead almost tenderly.

"How are you feeling this morning, Mrs. Butler?"

He stretched his long legs out in front of him lazily, ignoring the look of furious impatience upon his wife's face. He wrapped his arms around her, ignoring her groan of pain as he pulled her tightly to him. Her head fit neatly under his chin as though they were two puzzle pieces meant to be set together. Little beads of sweet were forming on her forehead, as though she were being forced to lay there in the intimate way, powerless to do anything but endure his presence.

I must be strong, she willed herself, I must be ready for him to leave me. I won't cry and plead for him to stay. I won't, I won't!

"Mrs. Wilkes has begun her confinement today."

Rhett felt a surge of energy within her body and he cupped her face in his large palm.

"She's going to die." Scarlett groaned, her face contorted in pain.

Automatically, he released his hold on her. "She isn't, Scarlett. And neither are you."

She began to shout frantically, as though she had been completely seized with terror.

"Scarlett!" Rhett's eyes were pleading. "Mammy! The laudanum! Mammy!"

Scarlett continued to struggle against him, but he pushed her down with all his force as the old black woman poured as much of the medicine down her throat as Doctor Meade had allowed. Slowly, her arms began to stop flailing and her black lashed eyes began to close.

Rhett fell to his knees in earnest prayer, watching over his wife with an agonized expression on his face.

"He really loves Mother, doesn't he?" the ginger-haired little girl observed from behind the half-closed door.

"No," the boy, her brother, said quietly. "He's just now realizing that he'll have to go on with life without her…and that's what scares the hell out of him."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Everybody that has stuck with this story, thanks for the support. It's an acquired taste, this Irish fairytale business. And it's been interesting making each little sub-story analogous to the larger GWTW plot. So, we're in the home stretch. I hope to be concluding this story this week, and then promise to start back work on The Rhett Butler Affair (so all you folks that prefer the standard 'non-metaphorical/allegorical' story, you're in luck)...So, keep reading! Reviews kind of make my day, so...you know the drill!**


	11. We Dreamed Our Dreams

**Chapter 11: We Dreamed Our Dreams**

_**With autumn's chill in my hills I stood aloneI called your name and heard a silenceWhere are you now?**_

"Do you reckon that God has the time to count every single soul?" the rheumy-eyed boy queried as he counted his collection of tiny metal soldiers.

"Of course He does." the girl sitting opposite him replied, her belief steadfast.

"How do you know that?" he pressed her, "you've never asked Him."

"I know." she stated plainly. "I just know."

"You think Bonnie's up there?" the boy pointed at the open window, the warm sun shining brightly upon his pale cheeks.

"I hope not," the girl shuddered. "Bonnie would be scared at night if she were up in the sky. I wouldn't want her to be frightened."

"I don't think you get frightened in Heaven," the boy said, forgetting his previous line of questioning.

"Shut your mouths," the other boy said quietly. "I don't want to hear any more about it out of either of you."

"I don't know how you get off like that, Wade!"

"What'd you say?"

"I'm saying that you're cold about it all. Bonnie'll haunt you if you don't treat her memory with respect."

"I respect her by not wallowing in grief."

"You should grieve. Mama says you should."

"Your Mama never cries. Not a tear. I've never seen her cry and I reckon I've known her longer than you."

Beau pondered his cousin's words thoughtfully and then retorted. "My mama's crying on the inside."

"But she doesn't let the folks see it. And neither should you or Ella. I'll pound you if I see one tear. And that goes for you too, Sissy. Understand?"

"I'm not crying!" Ella protested as she wiped her nose loudly with her sleeve.

"Wade?" she ventured in a soft voice, "can Bonnie ever come back?"

He gave his sister a hard stare. "She can become a ghost." Wordlessly, he pulled out his well-loved copy of _The Parochial History of Ireland_, a text that had belonged to his grandfather, and began to flip to a page that had been earmarked.

"Ghosts." He began, his voice flowing into the lovely resonance that comes to only naturally gifted orators, "…or as they are called in the Irish tongue, _Thevshi_ or _Tash_, live in a state intermediary between this life and the next. They are held there by some earthly longing or affection, or some duty unfulfilled, or anger against the living."

"There you have it," Beau said quietly. "See, Ella."

"I don't want her to be angry with me!" Ella cried, her eyes alit with fear.

"She won't be angry with you, stupid!" Wade chortled. "Don't tell me that you believe these things?"

"I'm not stupid!"

Wade rolled his eyes and continued. "'I will haunt you', is a common threat; and one hears such phrases as, "She will haunt him, if she has any good in her". If one is sorrowing greatly after a dead friend, a neighbor will say, "Be quiet now, you are keeping him from his rest; or, in the Western Isles, according to Lady Wilde, they will tell you, "You are waking the dog that watches to devour the souls of the dead". Those who die suddenly, more commonly than others, are believed to become haunting Ghosts. When the soul has left the body, it is drawn away, sometimes, by the fairies. I have a story here of a peasant who once saw, all who had died for years in his village. Such souls are considered lost. If a soul eludes the fairies, it may be snapped up by the evil spirits. The weak souls of young children are in especial danger. When a very young child dies, the western peasantry sprinkle the threshold with the blood of a chicken, that the spirits may be drawn away to the blood. Lady Wilde considers it is only the spirits who are too bad for heaven, and too good for hell, who are thus plagued. They are compelled to obey someone they have wronged."

"Stop it, Wade!" Ella's hands were on her ears and she began to cry loudly. "Stop it! I don't want to hear any more of your stories!"

"They're interesting!"

"They're scary! Beau! Beau, stop it!"

Beau had grabbed the book out of Wade's hands and continued to read aloud. "The souls of the dead sometimes take the shapes of animals. There is a garden at Sligo where the gardener sees a previous owner in the shape of a rabbit. They will sometimes take the forms of insects, especially butterflies. If you see one fluttering near a corpse, that is the soul, and is a sign of its having entered upon immortal happiness."

"I'm going inside! Both of you should be ashamed! All this talk of death and dying when I miss my sissy! And she's never, never coming back! And all you can talk about are butterflies!"

_The undertaker and his wife were asleep. If Mary Grace had actually trusted them, she would have done as they said and stayed in bed. She was sitting forward on the bed, looking out her window at the city skyline. There was a mother and a father that would be missing her, but she remembered nothing; their faces would not hold together within her mind. She remembered a strong jawed man, and a pair of green eyes. What she could not picture were the people who owned them. Every time she put a piece of a face together, it fell apart and became another. _

_Soon I'll forget them, she thought with trepidation. She had no intention of letting that happen. She unwrapped the bandages skillfully with her small, nimble fingers, tossing them in a pile under the bed. Wearily, she felt the knot underneath her left eye. It was smaller now, perhaps it didn't look as gruesome as it had. But she could see! Her sallow face became bright for the first time in months. _

_Carefully she slipped out the window, stealthily landing in the tall grass. She had not gone half a block when the sky let out an awful growl. She began to run. She knew the way! The storm threatened to overtake her, so she ducked between two houses. Then she beheld it: home. Home was so near. Of course it was; she had felt it! _

_Mary Grace found the house with no trouble. The lightning storm increased in its ferocity. She had been here before. She knew the way. The gate was unlatched and the door unlocked. _

_Lowering her eyes a little as she entered the marble foyer, she took in the setting with breathless awe. The instinct that was guiding her was very sure of itself. Creeping stealthily up the stairs, she found the open room. She tiptoed to the door and opened it slightly. Bravely, she entered the sanctuary. _

_A beautiful woman was sleeping, the light from the lamp framing her black curls upon the white pillow. Her breathing was rapid and her skin hot to the touch. Mary Grace climbed onto the bed and began to stroke her cheeks. She was the most beautiful woman in the world. The woman's eyes fluttered open, and her mouth framed a word which Mary Grace did not understand. _

_She fled the room and again scurried down the stairs. _

"_Stop!" the tiny voice of another girl child stopped Mary Grace. At the first instant, Mary Grace thought that it must have belonged to the beautiful woman. _

"_Please. Please don't leave us."_

_Mary Grace turned around slowly. The other girl's expression showed that a deep-seated fear was manifesting itself within her._

"_Bonnie!" the girl screamed._

_Mary Grace took off running. The girl had seen her, and she would tell. The rain was pouring in angry curtains and Mary Grace felt sure that she would drown in it. The girl's voice trailed behind her. _

"_Bonnie!" _

_The other girl was perusing her. She was heavier than Mary Grace, but running as fast as her short legs would take her._

"_Bonnie, please! Bonnie! Don't leave us! BONNIE!"_

_Then, without any warning, a bolt of lightning struck a tree. The branch cracked like a whip and there was a thump of bone cracked against a piece of wood. Mary Grace heard the wail of the other child. She staggered backward, clutching her head and face. _

_There was a faint thump somewhere within the rain. _

"_Ella!" a man's voice called out. "Ella! Ella!"_

_Mary Grace concealed herself behind the tree, watching with hungry eyes as the man and an older boy ran to the child. _

"_Bonnie, Bonnie!" the girl was sobbing. "I saw Bonnie, I saw her I did! I did! I did!"_

"_She's delirious!" the man said, scooping her in his arms. "Wade, run to the Meade's! Quickly!"_


	12. The Love Token

**Chapter 12: The Love Token**

_**Mama's in love, papa's in loveIt's such a shame they don't love each other**_

_Over the years Rhett had been acquainted with him, Doctor Meade had hardly aged at all. He was thin and bald and intellectual, and he had never ceased being any those things; he was as sturdy and reliable as any farm laborer, and his profession called for an equal amount of perseverance. He knew that the Butler household was in turmoil; how could it not be with one child in the ground and with Scarlett herself not showing any positive improvement. She had lost the will to live, he supposed, even for the sake of the child she carried. _

_Rhett doesn't look so good either, Doctor Meade noted with the keen observatory skills of a seasoned clinician. The man's face was swelled with fury and pure, unadulterated pain. _

_The doctor had had no more trouble with Ella, who had come back to life very suddenly after her ordeal. She had a high fever, but nothing too life-threatening. The doctor smiled slightly at his young patient, as though he noted something in her small pale face which pleased him. _

"_Well?" Rhett said in a voice without inflection. His eyes moved from Ella to Doctor Meade, then back to Ella, where they lingered. _

"_Pneumonia." Doctor Meade declared. "She'll make it if she makes it through the night…and she will, Captain Butler. She will."_

"_Oh Ella, foolish Ella," Rhett took his stepdaughter's hand and stroked it. "What made her do it, Doctor?"_

"_You said that she called out for Bonnie?"_

"_Yes. She said that she had seen her."_

"_We read a book about ghosts today, sir," Wade confessed in a hollow voice. _

_Rhett rounded on the boy. "What possessed you to do such a thing? When your mother is so ill and Bonnie is…gone! Use your brain, boy!"_

"_I'm sorry, sir," Wade said shamefacedly._

"_It's not your fault, son," the doctor put a reassuring hand on Wade's thin shoulder. "This is out of my hands, Captain Butler. She's in the hands of God."_

_A half an hour later, Melanie knocked on the front door, looking weak and pale. She dropped her cloak on the floor and came as far as the parlor door and stopped. Her thin face was suddenly transformed, shining with hope. Wade sat in the high-backed wing chair, reading that old book about Ireland he was so taken with. So engrossed was he in his reading, he did not even look up at her. _

"_Wade!" Melanie cried. "How is Ella? Is she better?"_

_Wade looked up at her, a blank expression on his face. "Hello," he said. "I have to find it, Aunt Melly."_

_She sighed and took the chair opposite him. "Find what, Wade?"_

"_Ella says she saw Bonnie. I think its all connected, Aunt Melly."_

"_Wade, honey, Bonnie had a terrible accident. There was nothing that you did, or that anyone else could have done. It was God's will that she be taken from us, understand?"_

"_It should have been me!" Wade cried. "It should have been me or Ella. Not little Bonnie. I tried to tell Ella to go to the nursery, and she won't, cause Bonnie's things are all there and she's scared of dead people's things. But then yesterday, she walked up there, plain as anything and says, Bonnie's not dead, I saw her in Aunt Melly's rose garden. Then tonight, she ran out in that storm saying that Bonnie was in the house! Aunt Melly, we've all gone crazy. But this book has the answers, I know it!"_

_Melanie sighed as she took in her nephew's face. Tearstained and pale, he looked miserable. _

"_You need to get out of this house, Aunt Melly. Otherwise, the curse'll get you, too."_

_Melanie looked at him suspiciously. "Wade Hampton, go to bed. Put that book up. Hand it here. Now, please."_

_The boy muttered. "I can't. I've got to find it."_

"_Give it here, Wade Hampton." Melanie's hand was outstretched. Quickly she grasped the ancient book in her talon-like fingers. "Now, no more of this nonsense, Wade Hampton Hamilton. Understand?"_

"_Yes'm," the boy murmured. He got up gingerly and shuffled out the door past his stricken aunt and down the hall toward the staircase. _

_Melanie's grimace hardened as she observed Rhett coming down the hallway. His face was dull and absorbed, and he sat down at the chair beside her, facing her, but did not give her any greeting. _

"_How have you been this evening, Captain Butler?" she asked genially. _

"_Wade's been telling me all about Irish ghosts and things." The hiss of his voice shocked her. His face was covered in a blank glaze but through it a look of understanding blazed forth. _

_Melanie felt her face grow warm, but she said nothing, motioning for him to continue. _

"_Ella asked if Scarlett was dead," Rhett continued. "And Wade said, no silly. Uncle Rhett's right here and Mother's down the hall. And Ella says, oh no, Wade Hampton. Uncle Rhett is dead and soon Mother will be too."_

_Melanie's pity turned into revulsion, and she felt the child within her belly quicken. "Don't you understand, Captain Butler? She feels neglected by you! Scarlett's been so ill, and Bonnie's death…oh Captain Butler!"_

_Rhett's face began to twist and a knot formed in his chin. _

"_Listen," Melanie said firmly, "Wade and Ella and Beau will never forget Bonnie. Neither will you or I or Scarlett. But you can forget about them. They aren't simpletons, Captain Butler; they know very well how deeply her death has affected you. It wouldn't surprise me at all if Ella wanted to join Bonnie, if only to earn your love."_

_She put her hand on Rhett's shoulder as if he were a small child. "I'm sorry that I have no words of comfort, Captain Butler." Her voice became softer as she addressed him. _

_Rhett's eyes glittered. "I can't love her. I try, Melanie, I try. I look at her and I try to see Bonnie and I can't. I can't! She doesn't exist within her. Do you understand that?"_

"_I see Bonnie in her," Melanie murmured thoughtfully. "Are you quite certain that you are seeking Bonnie and not something else? Someone else?"_

_Rhett could feel his face flush, but he said nothing. After a second he said, "Yes," as though he thought it necessary. "I can't lose them both," he said. "I can't."_

"_You'll never lose Bonnie. As long as you remember the little girl she was…how kind and sweet and generous of spirit! And so full of life! Her life will never be in vain so long as you remember that."_

_His eyes hardened in disbelief at her words. _

"_She's gone. All I have in my mind is a picture of her in everlasting darkness. And now Scarlett is…" his voice trailed off as his eyes grew hollow. _

_Melanie sighed, knowing from her years of experience that the only way to handle this sort of thing was with gentle tenderness. _

"_There, there, Captain Butler…"_

Scarlett's forehead was beaded with sweat, as though she was being nailed to her bed. She knew that it was her penance to endure this pain; if she endured, she would survive. She would be free. She held onto the small object in her hand rigidly. Above her head, Scarlett saw nothing in particular, so she closed her eyes within the isolating darkness, yielding to it and allowing it to overcome her. She forgot about everything.

A struggle. A body caught by an undertow and then washed to shore. A limp body being pulled from underneath a carriage. Three wailing women.

Scarlett was suddenly beside them, watching it all with an agonized expression on her face. Without warning, a new emotion seized her, and all traces of the vision disappeared into the blackness. She sank into it and allowed it to hold her in a vise. Then, she was a little girl again and her Pa was swinging her in the air. The only thing she saw was the never-ending blue of the sky above…

_Rhett's face was painfully contorted as he witnessed her suffering. She was not strong enough to have this child, the child she had not wanted. He had allowed himself to become twisted by some primeval sense of rage at her mental unfaithfulness to him and he had hurt her in every conceivable way. She was suffering for his injured pride, and would pay for it with her life. _

"_I can't live without her," he parroted, his voice anguished. As he realized what he had done, he moaned loudly. _

_Scarlett opened her eyes, which were bloodshot and vague. Doctor Meade was glaring to the side of her. "Hold on, Scarlett! For God's sake, don't quit on me now!"_

"_How long?" Rhett said._

_Doctor Meade didn't answer. Melanie opened her mouth, but said nothing. A fierce, surging pressure filled Rhett's chest and grimly he exhaled. He plowed his way out of the room and descended down the staircase and out the door, all the while envisioning his life without her. _

_Melanie reached for Scarlett's hand, still clenched tightly._

"_What's she got?" Doctor Meade said sourly as he worked. _

"_Her ring," Melanie sighed as she beheld the gaudy thing, "her last love __token from Captain Butler."_

**A/N: Now begins the conclusion. Feedback is great! I appreciate your reviews and thoughtful constructive criticism. **


	13. The Hat My Father Wore

**Chapter 13: The Hat My Father Wore**

_**She was young and she was beautiful**_

Mary Grace had a sense of waiting, as though she expected for something to happen at any moment. She watched idly as the round red moon rose, and alighted the street. She could not forget her narrow escape, how she had almost been caught by the girl. She wondered if the other was all right. She closed her eyes and went over the events of the afternoon in her head. The girl, the older boy, the man, and the beautiful woman in the bed. She smiled at the thought of this family that seemed to lack only one.

Suddenly, the man reappeared. His face was sullen, and his eyes seemed downcast. He had a wide-brimmed Panama hat upon his head, which sparked her interest. It could have very well been the hat that her father had worn…

She smiled at the opportunity, and hurriedly followed the man down the cobbled street. There was something in his air and manner of walking which was familiar. He was part of her, somehow, somewhere. She would have known him anywhere.

He turned his head at a slight angle, catching a glimpse of her. The child was young and beautiful, chin slightly upturned and eyes filled with pleading. He seemed to be drawn to the child but to be pulling back from her. He was moving blindly, and he felt that something was happening directly before his eyes. His muscles were tensed and he was dizzy. He stopped and put a hand to his chest, as though he were having palpitations.

He fled quickly, jostling through the crowd. Mary Grace trailed him doggedly.

He was in the middle of the street, eyes wide.

"Get away from me!"

Mary Grace pursued.

"Get away from me, ghost! Stop haunting me!"

She said nothing, her blue eyes staring him down.

The man sank to his knees, his face buried in his hands.

"Butler!" a voice from the street cried. "Watch out!"

Mary Grace saw the carriage coming at full speed. The man saw it too, but he stood up too slowly.

The impact shook the very ground, and all that the bystanders could make out was the sound of a child's voice screaming: "DADDY!"

The child approached the man with a fixed fascination, her gaze not leaving him.

"I'm sorry!" the driver cried. "He was in the road! I pulled on the reins. Animals don't know to stop! Help!"

The man appeared to include her in his own line of vision, but his voice held no words of recognition.

"Scarlett." The man's crushed chest heaved as he choked out the word. "Scarlett."

Mary Grace stroked his face with her little hands. They were facing one another in the isolation of the event, with only the pale stillness of the night around them. He remained absolutely still and expressionless, as though if he moved she might disappear.

The child began to cry as a look of recognition dawned upon her small face. She ran her hand across his face, which caused the muscles within it to contract harshly. He set his jaw, refusing to cry out the name.

"Daddy," she whispered. "Daddy! Remember me. Please. Remember me."

He peered forward as much as he could at the face above him. The bloodshot veins of his eyes swelled, and simultaneously, tears glazed within them. They glistened for a second or two, then fell freely down his swarthy cheeks.

"Daddy. I love you, Daddy."

The man made a rough motion with his arm, then moved his lips again.

"Bonnie."

His eyes were upon her, glittering with tears.

"Bonnie. My baby, Bonnie."

"It's me, Daddy."

His lips moved as if he were speaking silently to the child, his red-lidded wet eyes taking in every single second in her presence. He trembled, and grabbed her hand with his last remaining ounce of strength. It then seemed to him that there was no more pain. There was nothing, and in nothing, there was peace.


	14. Dark Horse on the Wind

**Chapter 14: Dark Horse on the Wind**

_**Oh then rise, rise, rise, dark horse on the windFor in no nation on earth more broken dreams you'll find**_

Scarlett was conserving all her strength for home. Tara needed her, and she would have to walk the rest of the way to find it. She stood there, straining forward, marching onward. There it was, just off the horizon! A thin streak of red earth. She felt her spirits rising as she found it. She was young again, and beautiful. She whirled toward the tree line. Home and Tara! Tara and home! She threw herself to the ground and began to kiss it.

Abandon the shade and seek the sun, she heard a command from the distance. She raised up from the ground with a piece of red clay earth clasped firmly within her hand. She was home, and she would never let it go. After a moment, still holding her piece of earth, she moved across the field and toward the splendid house. Scarlett paused only as she watched the sun rise from the south. It was pink-gold in color, the black straight rows of pine trees looking black up against it.

The sun had appeared over the field beside her, as bright as a diamond in the sky.

"Katie Scarlett?"

Scarlett paused as she heard the unmistakable Irish brogue coming from the house.

"Katie Scarlett? Is that yourself comin' home to us?"

"Coming, Pa!" she called with new jubilation. "Coming!"

"Hurry up, Puss! Tis a great deal of waiting that Mrs. O'Hara and I have been doing!"

Her face set briefly toward the hill. A dull cloud of red smoke was kicking up behind a mighty black stallion. It reached her instantly, and she felt a strong sense of recognition as she beheld its hooded rider.

"You'll have to take over and manage this place, if you want to live here," she said.

The man smirked, the same rakish smile that he had worn all those years ago at Twelve Oaks.

"I assumed that we would reside here together. But I don't dare presume, Miss O'Hara."

She looked at him with a bemused expression upon her face. "I thought that I was Mrs. Butler."

"Only if it is still your pleasure to remain so. This is eternity we're talking, Scarlett."

"I believe that I gave my word to remain so until we are parted by death."

"And we have been. But I came back to you, as I promised I would always do."

She observed the bland expression upon his large face, fixing it within her mind. The was no sense of urgency, no trace of nervousness. He stood there with his half smile, saying nothing.

"I don't deserve you. I don't deserve this ending. I deserve hell and punishment for everything I've done."

"Quiet yourself, my pet. There is no more innocence or guilt here. There is no conviction for our sins…"

"I want to stay here forever."

"Shall I leave you then?"

"I don't want it to change."

"I'll go then."

"Wait! I was looking for something. I was always searching. I could never find it though. And even here, with everything I want, I'm still looking."

He stood there with his black eyes on her.

"I was looking for you."

The corners of his lips upturned into a faint hint of a smile.

"I had hoped that would be your answer."


	15. Grace

**Chapter 15: Grace**

_**There won't be time to share our love, so we must say goodbye.**_

_The baby had been born on a Tuesday, a black haired little girl whom Melanie had christened Scarlett Grace Butler. Melanie had held Scarlett's hand throughout the night, knowing that she would not survive the birth, especially after the news of Captain Butler's death. Bonnie had been with him as he passed, the little girl miraculously brought back to life. He had died a happy man, and Scarlett would join him soon. Melly held an unshakable trust in true love, always having been a romantic at heart. Her soul cried out in silent prayer for her own life; for her own time was close at hand. She knew though deep down that she would survive, for she would now be responsible for Scarlett's four children as well as the two of her own. She would take on the mantle gladly._

_The two graves, freshly mounded, lay between them. Ashley stood next to her, looking oddly aloof, his still eyes reflecting the scene in front of him. He was a lost child, Melanie thought with a surge of affection for him, more a child than a lover. Her eyes lingered upon the children. _

_Wade's look of shock was frozen onto his face, while Ella's was oddly peaceful, as though she had lost something supremely unessential. Her own Beau looked more like an adult than a child, holding little Bonnie's hand with tender care. She knew that their little world would have been shattered had it not been for Bonnie's presence. God was merciful, Melanie thought to herself. _

"_Aunt Melly?" Bonnie whispered. "Are Mother and Daddy together again?"_

"_Of course, darling," Melanie squeezed the child's thin shoulder. "Of course they are."_

_Melanie turned her head toward the tree line, bending her gaze toward it as if she were being granted a vision. A light settled in her eyes as she observed them, a woman with black hair and green eyes and her swarthy faced lover. The rogue and the maiden, suffused by a red glow. She leaned forward to observe them closer, but in a moment, the vision faded. They had seen that the children were all right. _

"_And they are, Scarlett darling," Melanie promised. "They are." _

The young man stood quietly behind the girl, his head turned toward her with an earnest interest in the words she spoke. He was no longer the rheumy-eyed boy with the habitually open mouth. Over the years, his features had hardened into the features of a man, and the broad-brimmed Panama hat, sitting low upon his forehead, rendered him thoughtful and almost dashing. His eyes were the same pale-slate color of the ocean, and they reflected it, constantly churning and owning a glint of mystery.

The girl stared a little to the side of her, her eyes a bonny shade of blue. She had a small jagged scar underneath her left eye, which gifted her with the look of someone who had achieved greatness at an early age.

She spread her dress about her and smiled up at him with a long, familiar sparkling stare that turned into an intimate grin.

"Alone at last, Beau Wilkes," she giggled. She cast up at him a great look of admiration, which increased his own confidence.

"Mother told me that you still like to sneak out at night."

"Poor Aunt Melly, she does so want me to be a lady. I'm afraid that I've failed her dismally."

"Nobody can tell you anything, Bonnie Butler." He reddened slightly at his own boldness. "Nobody ever has been able to tell you anything."

Bonnie gave him an even more pointed attention. "Do you know who you look like?"

"Someone very distinguished," he said facetiously, which earned him another giggle.

"And not bad looking," she added, with an appreciative leer at Beau.

"Louise Pecard says that I favor Wade."

"You don't favor him any more than I favor Ella."

"Well, at least Ella is pleasing to look at."

The girl's shoulders leapt as she jumped up. "Well marry _her_ then!"

He reached out to touch her and she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Go away!" she said, looking at him as though he had profaned something sacred.

Beau watched her, fascinated. "Surely Bonnie Butler, the belle of Atlanta, isn't jealous?"

"Mind how you talk to me!" she sniffed with an arch sense of superiority.

"Ella's much kinder than you are, to be sure."

"Oh, go away, won't you?"

Beau opened his mouth to retort, but stopped as he beheld her face in the moonlight. He seemed to see her and nothing else, as if his gaze had fallen into the epicenter of her blue eyes and gotten stuck there.

"No. I won't go away, Bonnie Butler."

She watched him, fascinated. "Let me go, you rake."

Frowning furiously, he released his hold on her shoulders.

"Look," she pointed. "Two butterflies."

He said nothing, his mouth opening on a vanished sentence.

"Wade says that butterflies are a symbol of immortal happiness."

"Wade says a great many things. And he does love to hear himself speak about the things he's dreamed up."

"That's why he's such a gifted professor," Bonnie said, a peculiar look in her eyes.

Beau turned and followed her gaze, resting his own eyes upon the lake. For an instant, he thought that he saw something fleeing across the surface of the water, like a light that appeared out of nowhere and then vanished somewhere equally nonexistent.

"From the South the light is coming," he quoted from Wade's old book of Irish fairytales that had been so beloved by them all as children.

"It's dawn!" Bonnie took his hand.

He looked at her as though it was the first time she had ever spoken to him. "And then what?"

She took his hand, as though a new connection had been formed between the pair of them.

"A new dawn. A new day."


End file.
